


When it's said and done (Let it go)

by Silence_Will_Fall201



Category: Prodigal Son (TV 2019)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Anxiety Attacks, Bad Parent Martin Whitly, Canon Compliant, Canon-Typical Behavior, Canon-Typical Violence, Dani Powell is a Good Friend, Dark Ainsley Whitly, Dark Malcolm Bright, Episode: s02e03 Alma Mater, Eventual Malcolm Bright/Dani Powell, F/M, Focusses on events that happened in 2x03 Alma Mater, Good Parent Jessica Whitly, Kidnapping, Malcolm Bright & Dani Powell Friendship, Malcolm Bright & JT Tarmel Friendship, Malcolm Bright Needs a Hug, Martin Whitly Being an Asshole, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Protectiveness, Spoilers for first three episodes of season 2, anger issues, angry Malcolm Bright, canon compliant until 2x03, mentions events afterwards though
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-06
Updated: 2021-03-13
Packaged: 2021-03-18 04:15:27
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 9
Words: 22,147
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29237430
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Silence_Will_Fall201/pseuds/Silence_Will_Fall201
Summary: Malcolm is plagued by nightmares of the past as a new killer strikes New York. A woman is found murdered and displayed for all to see in front of a window fronting Central Park, and the profile seems to be getting away from Malcolm. Details begin adding up wrong, and while he tries to solve the murder, his own past comes back to haunt him in the most spectacular fashion.*Spoilers for the first three episodes of season 2!*
Relationships: Ainsley Whitly & Jessica Whitly, Ainsley Whitly & Martin Whitly, Gil Arroyo & Dani Powell, Gil Arroyo & Edrisa Tanaka, Gil Arroyo & JT Tarmel, Gil Arroyo & Jessica Whitly, Gil Arroyo & Malcolm Bright, Gil Arroyo/Jessica Whitly, JT Tarmel/Tally Tarmel, Jessica Whitly & Martin Whitly, Malcolm Bright & Ainsley Whitly, Malcolm Bright & Dani Powell, Malcolm Bright & Edrisa Tanaka, Malcolm Bright & JT Tarmel, Malcolm Bright & Jessica Whitly, Malcolm Bright & Martin Whitly, Malcolm Bright/Dani Powell
Comments: 8
Kudos: 72





	1. Tales of the past plague the present

**Author's Note:**

> Because I'm in love with prodigal son.

_A flash of blood stopped him in his tracks. The living room was covered as it was, but he was only adding to it. Malcolm froze momentarily, his shoulders stiff under the yellow raincoat and hands tense while holding the circular saw he’d appropriated from what was left of Martin’s “hobby” room. He wiped at the blood that had spurted onto his face, trying to get it out of his eyes but only smearing it in the process as he set back to work._

_Malcolm couldn’t deny that his heart was racing as he took the saw to Nicholas Endicott’s body, targeting joints so it was an easier process. His heart wasn’t racing from fear, but rather he felt a thrill. The very thing he’d hunted people for in law enforcement, he was doing himself. Disposing of a body. Malcolm, in that moment wanted to save Ainsley from the knowledge that she had done it, that she had killed him, but in doing so he found something out about himself._

_Something he had kept pushed deep down for many years._

_The smile that plastered his face while he took the saw to yet another limb was one reminiscent of a smile he had worn many years before. Malcolm was a complex person, he wanted to bring killers to justice while being the son of one of New York’s most famous killers. He understood them in a way few could, and while part of that was to do with his long chats with his father and his knowledge on how a killer’s mind worked because of it, the other part was more…personal._

_Nicky Covington was a mean son of a bitch. The son of a wealthy businessman and his glamorous model wife, Nicky was an only child. While his parents were too busy fighting, Nicky got away with a lot. Malcolm despised him, and while Nicky was pushy and mean, Malcolm never fought back with either his words or his fists. That was, until Nicky locked him in the maintenance closet at the end of the hallway for three days over a long weekend. Malcolm was meant to be in the Hamptons with his mother and Ainsley, but instead was dying of thirst._

_Malcolm was found unconscious by the janitor on the Tuesday. He was in Hospital until Wednesday afternoon. On Thursday, Malcolm got in early and met Nicky at their shared locker bay. Nicky always was out of the dorms early to get away from his annoying roommate - Malcolm overheard him say one day. That was the first time Malcolm learnt who he could be._

_Nicky greeted him with a smug “have a good weekend Whitly?” And was met with Malcolm’s quick strikes to his throat and nose. Malcolm was precise, he went directly for the airways and cutting the air flow off temporarily triggered an asthma attack. Nicky suffered from severe asthma and Malcolm used it to his advantage. Nicky was wheezing, his nose broken and bleeding heavily. Malcolm watched with cold eyes, Nicky hurt him, why couldn’t he hurt him back?_

_Nicky began searching through his pockets and Malcolm held up the inhaler tauntingly before tossing it over. Malcolm’s words were cold, his voice even and unwavering as he spoke. Nicky took a puff of the inhaler only to realise it was empty. He told Malcolm so, only for Malcolm to reply with a deadpan “is it?” Which made Nicky’s eyes go wide._

_Nicky’s wheezing got worse and progressed until he began writing on the floor, clutching at his throat and trying to gasp for air. Malcolm watched on with a blood splattered face and smirked, he got what he wanted. Nicky was dying on the floor, and Malcolm was_ pleased _. It was only when Malcolm noticed his hand shaking that he fully realised what was happening, and he called for help._

_But what if he didn’t?_

Malcolm woke with yell, his body tensing upwards, straining against his restraints. He was sweating profusely, his shirt soaked at all the usual points. Malcolm groaned and spat out his mouth guard, then took to work undoing his restraints. He was up later than usual, his dreams - or rather nightmares - taking the time he usually spent awake. Sunshine chirped excitedly and Malcolm smiled slightly in her direction.

“Hello Sunshine,” Malcolm greeted. Once he was free of his restraints, he stood and went to get birdseed to feed his bird.

After feeding Sunshine, he went through his morning routine. Pills - which he was running extremely low on - morning affirmation - “I am free of worry and regret” to which Malcolm scoffed at and crumpled up to throw in the trash - he exercised for an hour, ate an apple, got dressed and brushed his teeth just before Dani showed up at his door.

“Morning,” Malcolm greeted a little too happily. Some days he overcompensated for his uneasiness with overly happy greetings.

“You’re…happy,” Dani observed as she stepped into his apartment, “why?”

“I’m not anymore happy than usual, just trying out some new greeting styles,” Malcolm replied with a shrug, “sorry, woke up late,” Dani nodded and took a look around the apartment she had now seen many times before. Nothing was new, nothing was different, though she did note the sweat stains on Malcolm’s unmade sheets - something he rarely forgot to do was make his bed.

“We’ve got a case,” Dani said finally, “Gil sent me to pick you up,” Malcolm nodded and headed over to grab his coat.

“JT?” He asked and Dani shook her head.

“Still on family leave. He and Tally are thinking of names,” she replied.

“Their son is three weeks old and he still hasn’t got a name?” Malcolm questioned with a frown to which Dani shrugged.

“Not my kid, not my problem,” she replied and Malcolm laughed.

“So, what’s the case?”

* * *

“Victim’s name is Elizabeth Riley,” Gil began as he led Dani and Malcolm under the police tape inside the penthouse apartment fronting Central Park, “she was last seen two nights ago with a friend,”

They walked into the living room of the apartment to see Elizabeth Riley’s body displayed like a piece of renaissance artwork or a DaVinci sculpture, suspended by rope that had been crudely attached to the ceiling. She had been displayed against the living room window, a floor to ceiling window which showed a perfect view of the street below. Edrisa was already there, working with her team to try and get Elizabeth’s body down.

“Yikes,” Dani winced and Malcolm stepped forward to observe the body in the way it had been displayed.

“Can you hold off on taking her down for a moment?” Malcolm asked Edrisa.

“Of course! I’ll let you do your thing,” Edrisa smiled brightly and pushed up on her glasses. Malcolm smiled back at her in thanks.

“A jogger in Central Park called it in. He could see her from his usual route,” Gil said.

“This is quite a display,” Malcolm pondered, “it’s almost like a piece of classic artwork. The killer took time in preparing her body like this,” he seemed to pace around the display, eyes dancing from point to point, searching for clues and details that others couldn’t see, “what was the cause of death?”

“I don’t know, which is the hard part,” Edrisa replied, “there’s no obvious wounds or lesions on the body, state of decomposition is almost nil, it’s like she was killed this morning,”

“Was she?” Dani asked and Edrisa shook her head quickly, an excited grin plastered on her face.

“No, she wasn’t. I won’t know when exactly until I get her down,” Edrisa explained.

“The killer took great care to make her appear alive in death…” Malcolm muttered, “the way she’s displayed is like a sign, a threat even to someone else. The killer cared for Elizabeth, enough to take a great deal of care when killing her, but they had another motive,” Malcolm frowned, “the way the rope was attached to the roof is careless, sloppy even, they took less care with their display than they did with the murder but it also might point to a female killer,”

“Why?” Dani asked.

“Strength. The ropes were attached to hooks, but the hooks have not been screwed in all the way, and they have been moved around in place,” Malcolm pointed to the scratch marks and signs of wear around the hooks, “this suggests the killer was shorter and may have used the ropes themselves to hoist Elizabeth up into place, pointing to the possibility of a female killer,”

“or a short male,” Gil replied and Malcolm conceded with a nod.

“Sure, but given the information at hand, I’m thinking a female killer” Malcolm shrugged.

“You said the display is like a sign or a threat?” Dani asked and Malcolm nodded, stepping away from the body so Edrisa and her team could move back in.

“Look at how she’s been displayed,” Malcolm gestured to the window and Dani narrowed her eyes, “there’s no curtains. They wanted her to be seen, either as a testament to their handiwork or as a sign to someone specific. The killer took a risk in being seen to do this,” Malcolm explained. Gil walked over next to Malcolm and tried to see from his perspective, “the windows front a very public place, the killer may have been sloppy in execution of the display but they felt a need for her to be seen by a lot of people,”

“So your profile?” Gil asked. Malcolm nodded and began gesturing wildly.

“What we know so far suggests the killer is female, likely between the age of twenty-five to thirty-five, around five foot three in height, give or take,” Malcolm began explaining, “They’re not a seasoned killer, but they did care about Elizabeth in a way that suggests a friend or personal connection,” Malcolm stopped for a moment and pondered his thoughts.

“Friend, girlfriend, family?” Dani asked and Malcolm nodded.

“Yes, but this goes deeper. The connection is personal, but strained. The killer cares about her but something happened in their relationship which changed things,” his eyes seemed to focus on nothing in particular as he spoke, “the killer _was_ in Elizabeth’s life, but hasn’t been for some time,”

“Alright, I’ll get a list together of Elizabeth’s close friends, former friends, family and any ex partners,” Gil said, pulling his phone out from his pocket.

* * *

Malcolm dreamed of Nicky Covington, but not in the way one dreams of a friend or a potential lover. No, Malcolm dreamed of Nicky Covington like a predator does for his prey. His dreams weren’t plagued with tales of the past, with nightmarish renditions of what Malcolm had done, but instead his dreams played out fantasies that rarely, but not never, took the place of the nightmares of his unconscious state.

_It started the way it happened in reality, with Malcolm taunting Nicky and watching coldly as he was writhing on the floor, gasping for a breath that wouldn’t come. Instead of Malcolm catching sight of his trembling hand and realising what he was doing, his hand was completely still. Malcolm’s blood splattered face was smirking in the dim morning light, eyes cast lazily over Nicky’s form crumpled on the ground. Nicky’s attempts at breathing became more frantic, shallower and more urgent. He grasped at his neck as his eyes rolled back into his head. Malcolm crouched over Nicky, his eyes trailing over his handiwork. He watched carefully as Nicky’s breathing began to get even shallower before it stilled. Malcolm stood and glanced upward at the newly installed security camera in the corner where the ceiling met the far wall. He gave the camera a mock, two-fingered salute before he casually strolled away, turning his back to the body of the boy he’d just killed._

Malcolm gasped and startled, almost leaping out of the seat of his desk where he had fallen asleep. Dani had one hand on his arm, and the other on the taser on her hip. It became common place for when Malcolm fell asleep at the precinct, any surrounding officers would attempt to wake him up as nicely as possible, with precautions in place for when Malcolm didn’t quite wake up fully.

“Sorry,” Malcolm yawned as he sat up straight in his chair, “didn’t sleep well last night,” Dani pursed her lips.

“You never do,” she said and Malcolm nodded in agreement.

“Some things are plaguing me more than usual,” he admitted, “but I’m fine,”

“You’re a terrible liar,” Dani rolled her eyes and Malcolm smiled slightly as he watched her sit at the chair on the other side of his desk.

“Who said I was trying to lie well?” Malcolm countered and Dani sighed.

“What were you dreaming about?” She asked, her eyes moving to fiddle with a pen that had been engraved with a graduation message from his final year at Harvard.

“The past,” he said, though that didn’t give any insight to Dani, but she had learnt not to push. If he didn’t want to talk about something, she wasn’t going to make him.

“Make any headway with your profile?” Dani changed the subject, nodding to the stack of files sitting on his desk.

“Not yet,” Malcolm sighed, “Gil got me a list of everyone close to Elizabeth, but so far none of them fit the profile,”

“Okay, run me through it,” she put the pen down and picked up the first file on the stack, “Marie Pierce, twenty-eight,”

“Elizabeth’s former best friend, they went to school together and college,” Malcolm began with a sigh, “Marie slept with Elizabeth’s boyfriend in their sophomore year of college, leading to a falling out between the two. She lives in Brooklyn but hasn’t contacted Elizabeth in years,”

“Why doesn’t she fit the profile?” Dani asked, turning over the pages of the file in her hands.

“She doesn’t care about Elizabeth. She intentionally hurt her in college. She’s selfish and not overly concerned with others, doesn’t have many friends and a revolving door of boyfriends” Malcolm explained, “she’s also five foot ten,” Dani nodded and picked up the next one.

“Alice Goodman, thirty,”

“Elizabeth’s cousin, married to a Dennis Goodman,” Malcolm said, “she’s a mother of two, lives in Queens, has a decently good relationship with Elizabeth judging by their phone records and text messages,”

“She doesn’t fit the profile because she’s got a good relationship with Elizabeth, and isn’t as concerned with Elizabeth’s life as she has her own,” Dani observed and Malcolm nodded with a smile.

“See, I like working with you, you see what others don’t,” Malcolm said and Dani gave him a small smile in return. It was then that Gil approached the two, phone in hand.

“Edrisa found the cause of death,” Gil said and almost immediately, Malcolm and Dani stood and made their way down to the morgue.

* * *

Edrisa seems to be bristling with excitement as she stood over the cold, metal table with Elizabeth’s body covered by a sheet. Malcolm, Gil and Dani entered the morgue and Edrisa seemed to be bursting with information to tell them. Before she could even speak, Gil held up a hand to stop her.

“Slowly,” he said and Edrisa took a deep breath and nodded.

“Cause of death?” Malcolm prompted and Edrisa launched into an explanation.

“She had a heart attack, or more specifically, she was _made_ to look like she had a heart attack,” Edrisa began with the beginnings of a grin forming at the corners of her mouth, “injection points between the toes,” she pulled up the sheet, exposing Elizabeth’s pale feet and the now clearly visible injection points.

“What was she injected with?” Dani asked.

“Air,” Malcolm supplied, “a few times by the looks of it,”

“It would have been trial and error,” Edrisa said, “too little air injected would have dissipated, so it would have taken a few tries to find the right amount to kill her,”

“How can injecting air between the toes kill her?” Gil asked, confusion etching his features.

“Well, injecting air into the veins between the toes can cause an embolism, a bubble of air that blocks the flow and travels through the vascular system,” Edrisa began explaining, “a small bubble will block it momentarily but won’t cause too much damage as it will likely dissipate on its own, but a large bubble can cause a heart attack or heart failure,”

“It’s the same reason why doctors often squeeze some fluid out of their needles before injection, to get rid of air bubbles,” Malcolm added, “this adds to the profile,”

“Medical knowledge?” Dani guessed and Malcolm nodded.

“They’re not proficient enough to know exact measurements, but this points to them maybe having training,” Malcolm frowned, “a nurse? Orderly? Someone in the medical field but not a doctor,”

“ _Or_ ,” Dani countered, her hands around her phone, “someone who spends a lot of time on the internet,” she pushed her phone towards Malcolm where she had brought up a webpage where people were debating the logistics of injecting air between the toes on reddit.

“Or that,” Malcolm conceded.


	2. Remember what the people said

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Another body is found with the same MO, but the circumstances are different. Malcolm has a chat with Martin about the case.

Malcolm brought all the case files home with him. All the profiles of everyone close to Elizabeth, and photos from the crime scene. He was missing something, and he wasn’t sure what. Edrisa had determined that Elizabeth wasn’t killed in her home, and had been dead almost the entire two days since she was last seen. Elizabeth had been stored somewhere cold, like a meat locker at a butcher, in order to slow decomposition. Gil had Dani checking security cameras outside Elizabeth’s building, because Elizabeth had to be moved and it would have been obvious, something like a delivery truck or a van would have done the trick. There was also the way Elizabeth had been secured into the ropes displaying her for all to see. It was sloppy, but it worked. The knots around Elizabeth’s wrists and ankles were like those scouts learned as children, but like it was the first time they had been executed. That was an anomaly in his profile that Malcolm hadn’t yet figured out. Unfortunately, none of the personal profiles Malcolm had access to fit his profile of the killer. Elizabeth had no known associates with any form of medical training that Malcolm could find. So he was at a loss.

Sitting at his desk, slumped over the last manila folder in the box he was given to take home, and an empty glass with melting ice, Malcolm was tired. It was late, past midnight, and he’d drunk one too many glasses of whiskey and was massaging his temples as he regretted the decision, his apartment spinning around him. Sunshine’s chirping only adds to the disorientation, and Malcolm wishes more than anything in that moment that he had someone there to take the bottle away from him.

But, Malcolm’s an adult - albeit not an overly functional one - and he pours himself another drink.

Before he can take a sip, there’s a knock at his door which slices through his mental spiral. He startles, flinching at the sound before his eyebrows crease in confusion. He looks at his watch, confirming that it was in fact nearly two in the morning, and that he didn’t drink through the night. The person at the door knocks again and Malcolm stands, obliging the request to open the door. Instead of his mother, or Ainsley at the door with questions about his mental health and overall sanity, it’s Dani, with a brown bag filled with what smells like doughnuts from the bakery just down the road from Malcolm’s apartment.

“Hi,” Dani greets him with an air of uncertainty and awkwardness. Malcolm looks between her and the brown paper bag before he closes his eyes tightly and presses his thumb and index finger to them to try to sober himself up quicker.

“Forgive me, I’m a little, uh, tipsy,” he manages to get out. Dani purses her lips and nods dramatically. Malcolm steps aside and lets her in, “but, by all means come in,” Dani steps past him and sets the bag on his kitchen island, taking a seat on one of his bar stools, “would those happen to be doughnuts from Beryl’s?” He asked as he closed his front door and Dani nodded.

“Gil told me you brought the case work home, so I figured you would still be up,” Dani said and Malcolm took a seat next to her.

“So what brings you to my apartment at two in the morning?” Malcolm asked, watching as Dani all but ripped open the bag, revealing four doughnuts of various flavours and icings. One glazed - Dani wasn’t a huge fan of icing - two pink frosted with sprinkles and one cinnamon sugar.

“I had a thought about the case,” Dani took a bite of her doughnut and glanced over at the files spread over Malcolm’s desk. Malcolm took a pink frosted doughnut and took a bite of his own, “what if your profile is wrong, what if the killer didn’t know her?” She asked and Malcolm thought for a moment as he chewed his doughnut.

“It wouldn’t make sense. The killer is inexperienced but knowledgeable, and they took great care in killing her as painlessly as they could,” Malcolm frowned, “the killer knew her once, and since it seems likely Elizabeth was their first kill, targeting someone you know or have known makes it easier to find a victim,” Malcolm explained, “nothing about this kill says random to me, it’s all been planned out too much for it to be. Elizabeth was killed elsewhere, store somewhere for two days then moved to her apartment to be displayed,”

“Okay,” Dani nodded, taking another bite, “what about the friend she saw the night she disappeared?”

“Lindsey Ferris,” Malcolm sighed, “Gil talked to her after we left the penthouse,”

“You weren’t there when he questioned her?” Dani frowned and Malcolm shook his head.

“If Gil had a suspicion, he would have called me,” Malcolm shrugged, “but, Lindsey was Elizabeth’s best friend, she cared about her, yes, and she’s the right height, but she didn’t do it, she couldn’t have,”

“Why?” Dani asked and Malcolm took another bite of his doughnut.

“She has rheumatoid arthritis,” Malcolm said, “she physically couldn’t have killed Elizabeth, moved her from place to place and suspended her in the apartment, it would have been excruciatingly painful,”

“You said it yourself the killer likely isn’t very strong,” Dani pointed out.

“I meant in the typical sense, the killer is likely average weight, average muscle density for a woman,” Malcolm shrugged. Dani nodded and hummed, pondering the thought. Malcolm stopped eating his doughnut momentarily and looked at Dani. Her hair was disheveled and sloppily pulled back into a loose ponytail. Her skin was a few shades lighter than it should be, and dark circles sat under her eyes. Her clothes were wrinkled, and it appeared as though she was wearing her pyjama top with some pants she’d thrown on quickly. Malcolm frowned at his observations and opened his mouth to say something when Dani cut in quickly.

“What?” She almost snapped, irritation at his staring obvious.

“You haven’t been sleeping,” he stated and she gave him a side-eyed look.

“Wow, really? I haven’t noticed,” she said sarcastically, “you’re one to talk,”

“You’re right, but you not sleeping has nothing to do with the case, does it?” Malcolm never knew when to shut up, and adding alcohol to that mix was never good. Dani recoiled at that and tensed up, Malcolm’s eyes immediately going wide at her reaction, “i’m sorry, I won’t pry,”

“Good,” Dani replied, “because if you did, I’d start prying about why you’ve been more unhinged than usual,” she put the final piece of her doughnut into her mouth casually, her posture relaxing as Malcolm’s tensed up.

 _Of course they noticed something wasn’t right,_ Malcolm frowned.

“Do you want a drink?” Malcolm asked, trying to lighten the mood.

“Honestly, I would love one,” Dani admitted.

* * *

Malcolm was called in to another body at four-fifteen in the afternoon after he and Dani had spent a trauma, case and alcohol induced early morning discussing details and generally moping about life. Of course, Dani told Malcolm nothing of why she was there besides the case itself, and Malcolm told her nothing of his budding insecurities about his own morality in return.

Malcolm lifted up the police tape surrounding the front steps of the courthouse. Police had blocked off the street it fronted, and crowds of people gathered outside the police line, armed with phones and cameras pointed directly at the front steps. Reporters trickled in from their vans, and Malcolm thought briefly to look for Ainsley, but remembered that she was in the studio filling in for the usual anchor for two weeks.

The murder was public, even more so than Elizabeth’s, and the display was deliberately unnerving. Like Elizabeth, the body was being suspended above the steps, ropes attached to the pillars reminiscent of ancient Greek architecture rather than hooks hastily attached to the ceiling. Also unlike Elizabeth, the body was clearly within the mid stages of decomposition. Suffice to say, Malcolm was intrigued.

“Well…this one is different,” Malcolm pursed his lips in contemplation but also annoyance, “this is the same execution as Elizabeth, but much more refined, though the killer didn’t take care in preserving the body this time,”

“Victim’s name is Alonzo Peña,” Dani fell into place next to Malcolm and stared upwards at the body, “let me guess, this doesn’t fit your profile with Elizabeth,”

“Not in the slightest,” Malcolm replied. Gil approached the two and sighed when he stopped. He glanced behind him at the body, then back at Malcolm and Dani,

“Edrisa says that he likely died just over a day ago by eyeballing it, but she’ll make sure when she gets him to the morgue,” Gil said, “what are you thinking, Bright?” Malcolm hesitated before answering.

“This is an entirely different killer, or it’s the same person who killed Elizabeth but they know how to change key things to make it appear like two separate people,” Malcolm said.

“Do you think they’re connected?” Gil asked.

“I’m not sure,” Malcolm admitted, “this killer didn’t care about Alonzo, they took no care in preserving the body, but they are more experienced,”

“How so?” Dani narrowed her eyes and used her flat palm to shield them from the afternoon sun.

“The ropes have been placed expertly, there’s almost no give in the display. This killer wanted Alonzo to be seen publicly, this kill is a statement, and while they didn’t care about Alonzo it is personal in nature,” Malcolm explained, “why the court?”  
“Alonzo was a lawyer,” Gil supplied, “he dealt with criminal cases, petty thefts, arson, nothing too major,”  
“Prosecution or defence?” Malcolm asked.

“Prosecution,” Gil replied and Malcolm’s eyes lit up in recognition, a glint forming that told of a connection he’d realised.

“This kill is by a disgruntled defendant, someone who was likely put away by Alonzo,” Malcolm explained almost excitedly, “the display on the court is purposeful, they wanted to hold Alonzo accountable for what they see is crimes against them,”

“That still brings into question whether this is connected to Elizabeth’s murder,” Dani said and Malcolm nodded, deep in thought and connections forming quickly in his mind.

“I can’t say for certain, but I do know that this killer is more experienced, they know a thing or two about rope typing, maybe a scout?” Malcolm pondered, “but this is likely not their first kill,”

“How can you tell?” Gil asked and Malcolm looked up at the body, frowning.

“Call it a hunch, but the execution here is more precise than Elizabeth’s murder. Nothing feels out of place, it’s perfect, from a killers point of view,” Malcolm explained, “I can tell you this; this killer is male, likely average to tall height, they’re physically strong in order to hoist him up that high and with that tension in the ropes, possible age in the thirties, something about this murder makes me believe this killer is older than Elizabeth’s,”

“So your working theory is we have two killers on our hands?” Dani asked with a sigh, “two killers with the same MO but varying degrees of efficiency and skill,”

“Exactly,” Malcolm was almost grinning, “it’s kind of exciting, don’t you think?”

“I think we need to get to work to find them, quickly,” Gil frowned.

“Right, of course,” Malcolm nodded, his smile fading.

* * *

Malcolm wasn’t able to avoid his family for any longer than a few days. Whether it was Martin’s persistent phone calls which almost always led to a voicemail, or either his mother or Ainsley dropping by without warning, usually armed with not-so-nice gossip, concerns for his wellbeing, new methods of coping with his trauma or pills. Needless to say, Malcolm wished, on lots of occasions, that he could avoid his family for longer. Though with recent developments he had to bare through the awkwardness for Ainsley’s sake, and their family’s.

“Oh, Malcolm, you’re just in time for dinner,” Jessica Whitly greeted Malcolm in his own apartment, Ainsley sitting awkwardly on his couch, one leg crossed over the other. Malcolm froze in his doorway and stared at the scene. Jessica was wearing one of her overly expensive dinner outfits, her hair expertly done so not a single hair strayed from its place. Ainsley wore her usual professional attire, her grey tweed blazer draped over Malcolm’s couch arm.

“Dinner?” Malcolm questioned and Jessica could only smile in the devious-up-to-something manner she held when planning something, “what’s the occasion?” Malcolm added.

“Oh, no occasion,” Jessica’s voice seemed to glide across her words as if she was about to break into song, and Malcolm could see Ainsley rolling her eyes even from where he stood.

“Then why dinner?” Malcolm sighed as he removed his coat and threw it haphazardly onto his bed, “i’ve had a long day, mother,” he added with a yawn for effect.

“Oh nonsense, you can spare a lovely dinner out with your family, can’t you, dear?” Jessica smiled and Malcolm conceded with a nod.

“Where do you have planned?” Malcolm asked, his tone suggesting boredom or exhaustion that Ainsley could understand.

“There’s this lovely new Italian place that opened up in Midtown that I thought we’d try,” Jessica suggested and Malcolm winced.

“That place opened up yesterday, it’s crawling with people,” Malcolm said.

“Oh don’t tell me you’ve gone native,” Jessica deadpanned, “I pulled a few strings and got us a reservation for seven,” Malcolm glanced at his watch.

“Oh course you did,” Malcolm muttered under his breath, “well, we better head out then,”

“That’s the spirit,” Jessica smirked. Ainsley stood and gave Malcolm a pleading stare that he only reciprocated.

* * *

Dinner was as tense as expected. Between overly expensive tagliatelle, merlot and Jessica talking their ears off, Malcolm chose to be lost in thought over listening to the latest news in the socialite world Jessica thrived in. Malcolm’s thoughts drifted to Ainsley. She was starting to remember more about what happened that night, bits and pieces. He suspected she would eventually but he never prepared for it.

Even though Martin knew Ainsley had killed Endicott, his focus was still tuned almost entirely to Malcolm. Martin’s echoing voice of _“she’s not like us”_ plagued his mind and he felt his hand tremor at the thought. Martin knew his daughter was the killer, not the son he’d spent so long trying to make into one, yet he was still so focussed on getting Malcolm to admit the similarities they shared. Unfortunately, Malcolm’s long suppressed thoughts, feelings and instincts had begun popping out an inopportune times. On the ledge, he was questioning his own morality on whether or not to drop the man weighing him down. In that awful ‘sex dungeon’ he psychologically and almost nearly physically tortured Boyd for information about the murder. Of course, he wasn’t actually going to hurt him, but the threat of doing so? The rush that gave him.

_Some days he could admit that was more like Martin than he wanted to be._

“Malcolm, dear, you’ve barely touched your food,” Jessica pouted and Malcolm snapped back to reality with a flutter of his eyelids and a dazed response.

“Right, sorry,” he said, “not feeling too hungry,” Ainsley gave him a glance of worry and confusion before she turned to her carbonara and away from the conversation. Jessica sighed in annoyance.

“It’s going to get cold if you leave it any longer, honestly this is some of the nicest Italian I’ve had in some time,” Jessica said, taking a bite of her Agilo e olio.

“That’s great, mother,” Malcolm took a small bite of his own pasta, obviously only barely hanging onto any words spoken to him.

"Are you okay?” Ainsley asked with a frown and Malcolm could only look at her with his usual veneer of ‘i’m barely hanging on but I’ll get there’.

“For now? I’m okay, I think,” Malcolm said, and he was at least partially honest that time. Ainsley looked like she didn’t believe it.

“What happened to the body at the courthouse?” Ainsley’s tone of voice turned from concerned younger sister to the investigative reporter whose sheer persistence he sometimes loathed.

“Ainsley!” Jessica exclaimed, setting down her fork with a clatter to her bowl, “can we _please_ keep murder away from dinner for once?” Ainsley sighed and glanced at Malcolm with a amused smirk.

“Sure, mom,” Ainsley sighed, “can’t help curiosity, though,”

“Won’t you be reporting on it tomorrow?” Malcolm countered and Ainsley laughed.

“Sure but I’m stuck in the studio. I’ve come to realise I prefer the hands on approach to reporting,” Ainsley said.

“Maybe I’ll tell you about it later?” Malcolm offered, “what I can, of course,” he added. Jessica rolled her eyes, exasperated with her two danger-seeking children with fascinations for murder. That’s what she got for procreating with a serial killer, she supposed, though that wasn't exactly up to her.

Just then, Malcolm’s phone buzzed in his pocket and he fished it out awkwardly, excusing himself from the table, leaving Jessica and Ainsley to chat. Malcolm stepped outside into the cool Manhattan air and hesitated before pressing answer, the caller ID saying _Claremont Psychiatric._

“Good evening Doctor Whitly,” Malcolm greeted.

 _“My boy!”_ Martin’s voice seemed as ecstatic as ever to be talking to Malcolm, _“I wanted to talk to you about your case,”_

“It’s eight at night, say what you need to say quickly,” Malcolm sighed.

 _“Right…well, you’ve got yourself a murderer who likes displaying their work, I see,”_ Martin began.

“Two, actually, two different murderers, same MO,” Malcolm corrected with a yawn.

 _“Two! Well now that makes it interesting,”_ Martin hummed, _“I’m guessing the victims aren’t connected to each other,”_

“No, not that we can tell so far,” Malcolm replied, “the second victim was only found this afternoon,”

 _“So I’ve heard,”_ Martin said, _“Funny thing about killers who like public displays…they crave validation, they want to be seen as being competent in their craft, skilled,”_

“Usually stemming from childhood negligence, not being validated in their hobbies as a child, I know this already,” Malcolm glanced around at the busy streets, the occasional confused glances he got from passersby who overheard him speaking to his father and the yellowed street lamps which made his focus shift, “our killers are connected to the victims. The first victim and the first killer seemed to have been known to each other at one point, the killer made sure the victim was taken care of and they killed her by injecting air between the toes,”

 _“Interesting,”_ Martin replied with another hum of thought, _“and the other victim?”_

“The victim was a lawyer, a prosecuting attorney to be exact. We believe the killer was a defendant who was put away by him at one point,” Malcolm explained.

 _“A valid assumption,”_ Martin said, _“but how about this; the killers are working as a team, killing people that wronged them_ both _. Maybe they were both involved in a trail involving your second victim,”_ Martin explained.

“That wouldn’t explain the first victim,” Malcolm said, his eyebrows creased as he thought over what Martin was saying.

 _“Well, your profile speaks to them as being two killers, the same MO, but different motivations. What if, their motivations are linked. How was the first victim killed?”_ Martin asked.

“Sloppily, compared to the second. While care was taken with the body and the murder, the killer is inexperienced, it was likely their first,” Malcolm said.

 _“And the second victim is likely_ not _the second killers first?”_ Martin added in question, to which Malcolm hummed in agreement, _“well, what if the first victim was the second killer teaching the first? What if there’s more to come from the both of them?”_ Malcolm stilled.

He _had_ been looking at them separately. While he believed in some fashion the two were connected, it made a degree of sense that they were more than connected, the killers were working together. The sloppy execution of the first victim compared with the second could have spoken to a teaching moment between killers.

Malcolm thought back to the rope and the way it was attached to the ceiling. The second killer was aquatinted with knot tying, the same knots had been used to attach both victims to their display, only the first victim was nearly falling out of their post-mortem hammock and the second was tightly secured.

“I can’t believe I didn’t connect the dots,” Malcolm muttered and he could hear Martin’s gleeful hum from the opposite end of the line, “I took note of the knots used to secure the first victim into the display, they were like those scouts learned but they were sloppy,”

 _“And let me guess, the second victim was secured with those same knots but tightly?”_ Martin said.

“I have to go, Doctor Whitly,” Malcolm abruptly hung up. Malcolm rushed back inside where Jessica and Ainsley had both finished their pasta, in contrast to his own bowl which was almost nearly full.

“Are you okay, dear?” Jessica asked in concern at the frantic nature of Malcolm’s movements.

“I’m sorry, I have to get back home, something about the case just opened up,” Malcolm explained hastily before he quickly pulled a bill from his wallet, set it on the table under the edge of his bowl, and rushed back outside.


	3. They say the end is coming sooner, but the end's already here

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> More details begin coming out about the case and Martin gets an unexpected visitor.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *TW*
> 
> Mentions/discussions of abuse (physical and emotional). Does not go into detail about the abuse itself but does talk about the mental state and mentality of some victims afterwards purely from a psychology standpoint rather than an emotional one.
> 
> Discussion is relevant to the case, and does not involve the personal lives of any main character of the show in itself.
> 
> If something is wrong about this section (please only refer to it from a psychological stand point rather than a personal or emotional one as it is Malcolm speaking about it from such a standpoint) please tell me and I will correct it ASAP. I do not want to offend anyone or trigger anyone who may have been a victim of abuse, so please correct any mistakes. I always try to do thorough research but if I haven't experienced something I will likely get things wrong.
> 
> Also a fair warning, this will be mentioned throughout later chapters as well.

Malcolm sat at his desk in the precinct, going over every file of potential suspects for both murders. He had lists of all of Elizabeth’s friends, former friends and acquaintances, family and all the defendants Alonzo put away. Most of the people Alonzo put away were either dead or still in prison, and if they weren’t they were out on good behaviour and didn’t fit the profile. Something wasn’t adding up about the murders. Malcolm was now convinced the killers were working together, but to what extent, he wasn’t sure.

“You okay?” Dani leant on the edge of Malcolm’s desk, a styrofoam cup of coffee in one hand. Malcolm flinched at her arrival, his frustration with the case evident with the way he slammed the file in front of him closed.

“Nothing is making sense,” Malcolm sighed, “I can’t connect anyone to the victims in a way that makes sense, and more than that I can’t connect the victims to find the common factor,”

“You think they’re working together? The killers?” Dani asked and Malcolm nodded.

“An unannounced call from my father shed some light on the case. I now believe the killers are working together, the more experienced of the two seemingly teaching the other,” Malcolm explained briefly, “as to their identities? Well I’m at a loss,”

"You said the second killer had likely killed before, right?” At Malcolm’s nod, Dani elaborated, “well what if you find their first?” Malcolm stilled.

“If I could find their first kill, or at least someone before Elizabeth and Alonzo, then I may be able to find a location to where they started, then cross reference with the suspects we have,” Malcolm explained his thoughts quickly, “whoever they are, if they’re in our pile, they look good on paper but maybe I can catch them,”

“Alright, well you get on that,” Dani shrugged.

“Oh!” Malcolm yelled in sudden realisation of a thought. Dani flinched at the yell, and a number of officers around the bullpen stopped to stare at Malcolm, “have you made any headway with finding where Elizabeth was stored?” He asked. Dani sighed and shook her head.

“Nothing yet, but we did catch a delivery truck arriving at her building in the early morning before she was found,” Dani said with a sigh.

“Oh?” The new information peaked Malcolm’s interest, “did you see how they got her inside?”

“Not yet, I’m heading down to watch the footage now,” Dani said, “want to come with?”

“Sure,” Malcolm nodded, “is it here or at the apartment building?”

“We brought the tape here,” Dani said, “forensics have been looking it over for anything useful,” Malcolm stood and Dani slowly got to her feet, taking a sip of her coffee, “looks like you could use a break,”

“Oh yeah, most definitely,” Malcolm chuckled.

* * *

The footage was in black and white, and incredibly grainy. It was difficult to see the picture in its entirety, obviously the apartment complex spent more money on renovating their apartments than they did investing in better security measures. The technology forensics team, comprised of only two people, Hayden Allston and Ryan Turvey, had found what they were looking for.

“Can you make the picture any better?” Malcolm asked and Ryan shook his head.

“We’ve done what we can,” Ryan replied.

“Alright then, let’s see it,” Dani sighed. She was leaning against one of the work benches the forensics team had in their lab, while Malcolm was standing rigid beside her, his arms crossed. When they were ready, Hayden pressed play on the video, and they watched in silence.

It began with showing the empty street outside the apartment building, time-stamped at seven-fifty-two in the morning. Not long after the video began, a delivery truck pulled up to the curb with what looked like a faded and unreadable company logo on the side. Two people exited the cabin of the truck, both wearing dark clothing and baseball caps that obscured their features, but it was clear one was female and the other male. Malcolm was right, the female was shorter and the male was taller, stronger and more broad.

Malcolm watched intently, the body language of the two as they exited the truck was quite telling of what had happened. It appeared Martin’s theory was correct. The woman was bouncing on her feet, nervous and she continued to look back and forth between places outside the view of the camera. She was anxious and it was clear she wasn’t acquainted with the situation. The man was the total opposite. He was calm, his posture straight and his body relaxed. What was interesting, though, was when he went to open the back of the truck to unload what was presumably Elizabeth’s body, his left hand began to tremble quite violently. It seemed he had no control over it, and he took several steps back from the truck. The woman noticed this and rushed to his aid. She was careful with him, gentle and caring. She took hold of his trembling hand and seemed to massage it until the tremor calmed down to what was barely noticeable. The two exchanged words before the woman helped the man unload the back of the truck.

“Pause it,” Malcolm said and Hayden did so, “did you see that?” He asked Dani who narrowed her eyes.

“See what?” She asked in confusion.

“The man has a tremor, it seems almost physiological and not psychological like mine, he has it all the time, just sometimes it gets more pronounced. I didn’t notice it until he tried unloading the truck,” he said quickly, “the woman’s reaction to it, she was gentle, careful, she seemed to know what she was doing and her own nervous body language dissipated after she began helping him,” Malcolm’s hands had flown upwards, gesturing wildly with every word.

“What does that mean?” Dani crossed her arms.

“I’m not sure yet,” Malcolm pursed his lips in annoyance. Dani nodded and sighed.

“Let’s continue,” she said to Hayden and Ryan.

The video resumed where the man and woman were unloading the truck. It seemed Elizabeth’s body was stored in a large crate they unloaded on a trolley. They closed up the truck and went to wait outside the front entrance of the apartment complex. It was then, when they were closer to the camera’s location, that it was easier to see the delivery company patches on the shoulders of their - now recognisable - jumpsuits and the middle of their caps.

“They were inside for a while,” Ryan spoke up and he fast forwarded the video. The two delivery people emerged from the building with the now open crate on the trolley an hour and a half later.

“Can you get a close up of the company patches on their clothing?” Dani asked, thinking the exact same thing that Malcolm was.

“Yeah,” Hayden nodded, and began tapping away at her computer. The computer screen Dani and Malcolm were watching drew a close up on the company patches.

“I don’t recognise the company,” Dani pursed her lips.

“Neither do I,” Malcolm frowned, “can you run it and see if you get a match?” Malcolm asked and both Hayden and Ryan nodded in unison, “thanks,” Malcolm turned to leave, his strides purposeful as he began walking out of the lab. Dani jogged to catch up with him.

“Where are you going?” Dani asked.

“I’m going to see if Edrisa found anything on Alonzo,” Malcolm replied.

“What are you hoping to find?” Dani’s pace quickened as Malcolm’s did. He seemed almost in a rush, the case clearly getting on his nerves.

“Something that differentiates the two killers. They don’t have the same motives, or quite the same methods but currently my profile has them as being too similar. I don’t like it,” Malcolm explained with a frown, “if there’s something different in the way Alonzo was killed, then I might be able to differentiate the motives of the man and the woman,”

“Well Alonzo was left to begin decomposing,” Dani pointed out and Malcolm nodded.

“It points to bad blood between Alonzo and the male killer, anger even,” he replied with a sigh, “but letting Alonzo decompose when the female killer attempted to preserve Elizabeth says more about her than it does him,”

“How so?” Dani stopped Malcolm in the middle of the hallway leading down to the morgue.

“Freezing Elizabeth’s body after killing her in a way that appears like a heart attack suggests our female killer feels some tension between them and Elizabeth, she felt like Elizabeth had to die but she didn’t want to punish her,” Malcolm explained, “in a way it was like our female killer wanted to let Elizabeth go, kill her like one puts down a beloved pet,”

“So she loved Elizabeth and she views killing Elizabeth as, I don’t know, letting her go and setting her, or themselves free?” Dani questioned and Malcolm nodded.

“Our male killer wanted to punish Alonzo, they wanted to send a message with his display. I have a feeling the displays are more _his_ doing, to create a sort of calling card for their murders,” Malcolm sighed, “I want to know how Alonzo died so I can determine how bad our male killer wanted to punish him, and it will give me an idea on both of their mental states,”

“Okay,” Dani nodded, “well let’s find out,”

* * *

“He was bludgeoned to death,” Edrisa’s excitement seemed a little unusual given the circumstances, however they were used to her attitude towards dead bodies, “He has bruises all over his body and defensive wounds on his arms and legs, but the killing blow was blunt force trauma to the back of the head,” Edrisa used her gloved hands to carefully move Alonzo’s head to show the telltale wound on the back of his head, blood matted in with his hair.

“That’s _very_ different to how Elizabeth died,” Dani said and Malcolm nodded.

“I now have a better understanding of the killers’ mental state,” Malcolm said quietly.

“The woman didn’t want to get her hands dirty,” Dani pointed out.

“Exactly,” Malcolm was deep in thought, subconsciously biting on his thumbnail as his eyes drifted towards the floor, “the way he conducted his kill speaks to deep, personal anger, maybe even anger issues or a personality disorder,” Malcolm said, his eyes lifting to examine the body and his hands falling to his sides, “the female killer didn’t want to get her hands dirty, she was careful and considerate, possibly a more empathetic and naive personality. It says to me that maybe she was manipulated, she might be prone to submissive behaviour rooted in some deep-seated personal trauma,”

“You got all that from her not wanting to beat someone to death?” Dani raised an eyebrow in disbelief. Malcolm chuckled and shook his head.

“No, but I can determine some theories over how they behave towards one another based on what we saw on the video and what their murders say about their psychological profile. The male killer is controlling, abusive and angry, while the female killer seems to behave in the opposite way,” Malcolm explained, “she was caring for him when his tremor provided a problem, she was gentle and seemed to respond to him like a loving spouse, suggesting that the two are romantically involved, but based on how he killed Alonzo, I’d say that relationship is geared towards his favour and she has been manipulated,”

“What if you’re wrong? What if it’s her that’s the manipulator and she’s taken advantage of a volatile personality to do her dirty work?” Dani posed and Malcolm thought over the theory with a nod.

“It’s possible, but so far I don’t see her as being that type of personality. She doesn’t appear to be the manipulator,” Malcolm frowned, “I’d say they both come from broken homes, maybe he learnt from his family while she has been trying to break the cycle,”

“She did a _great_ job at that,” Dani rolled her eyes.

“Exactly, a victim of abuse can find themselves in similar situations than what they grew up in, never really breaking the cycle until they manage to find the courage in themselves,” Malcolm explained. Dani stood still, her posture tensing up at the words Malcolm was saying.

“You don’t think she’s with him of her own volition?” Dani asked and Malcolm shook his head.

“No, I think she became involved with him due to some circumstance I can’t picture yet, and because she appears to be a more empathic and frankly _innocent_ individual, I’d say he took advantage of her,” Malcolm sighed, “unfortunately, statistics don’t lie,”

“Yeah…” Dani shook her head, looked to the floor and began shifting her weight from one foot to the other, “I just don’t like thinking about how a woman who’s been a victim of abuse becomes… _this_ ,”

“I know,” Malcolm nodded, “there’s a strong possibility that she is also a victim in this,”

“I guess we’ll just have to find her and see,” Dani said, her expression a picture of steely resolve.

“That’s the spirit,” Malcolm smiled.

* * *

Malcolm’s anxiety spiked at the loud beep of the secure door opening. He clasped his hands firmly in front of him, trying to mask the tremor that always seemed to be there whenever he entered Claremont. Mr. David gave him a sympathetic smile as Malcolm stepped through the door, it closing behind him. Martin Whitly greeted him with a grin, his eyes lighting up the moment Malcolm set foot in the cell. Malcolm stayed by the door, his back nearly pressed to it while Martin exhausted all the slack in his tether to get as close to Malcolm as possible.

“My boy!” Martin exclaimed, “how’s your case coming along?”

“It isn’t,” Malcolm said with a sigh.

“Oh?” Martin raised an eyebrow, “did something happen?”

“I believe one of the killers is an abuse victim,” Malcolm frowned and looked down at his hands. Despite his attempts to mask the tremor, it was quite obvious.

“Really? Well that makes things more interesting, don’t you think?” Martin’s grin sparkled with excitement and mischief. Malcolm sighed and shook his head, to which Martin gave him a mocking pout in return, “would it kill you to lighten up sometimes?” Martin sighed.

“Maybe if I wasn’t conversing with my serial killer father, I would,” Malcolm retorted and Martin rolled his eyes.

“Now, don’t be rude Malcolm, I thought I taught you better than that,” Martin stated, his eyes cast downward but still maintaining unsettling eye contact with Malcolm.

“You also did your best to teach me how to kill, but I guess I just didn’t listen to any of your lessons,” Malcolm snapped.

“Ooh, you’re on edge lately,” Martin said, “and besides, you did listen to _plenty_ of my lessons,”

“That’s not the point!” Malcolm yelled before reigning himself back in with a frown, “i’m not hear to talk about myself, Dr. Whitly,” at the sudden professionalism, Martin sighed dramatically and went to sit on his desk chair.

“Then by all means,” Martin gestured outwards, inviting Malcolm to speak about his case.

“Thank you,” Malcolm said with a huff, “I came to talk about my case and ask you a question,”

“Which is?” Martin prompted, feigning boredom.

“What could cause a physiological tremor, and would any of those reasons require a caretaker? A live-in nurse?” Malcolm asked and Martin leant back, pondering.

“Well, lots of things can cause a physiological tremor,” Martin mused, “nerve damage, hypoxia, fatigue, Parkinson’s, caffeine, stress, etcetera,” Martin shrugged, “most of these things, and the ones I didn’t list, do _not_ require a caretaker, however depending on the severity and other possible linked disorders, some patients might,” Martin explained, “why?”

“The male killer has a physiological tremor. We have footage of the two killers moving the first body, and I didn’t notice it at first,” Malcolm began explaining, “it got more severe when he was attempting to open the back of a delivery truck but the female killer helped him, seemed to care for him and the tremor reduced,” Martin hummed and looked up, thinking.

“That does appear to be caretaker behaviour,” Martin said, “which killer do you believe is a victim of abuse?”

“The female,” Malcolm said, “she presents as a more empathetic individual. She took care of the first victim like she loved her, and she didn’t want to get her hands dirty,” Malcolm explained, “the second victim, however, is a product of the male killer’s anger and abusive nature. He was bludgeoned to death and has severe bruising all over his body, and defensive wounds. He was left to begin decomposition while the first victim was frozen until they displayed her,”

“A valid assumption,” Martin noted, “you believe the male killer is manipulating the female?”

“I do,” Malcolm nodded, “if she is his caretaker, and he does have some condition or disease, it stands to reason he’d want her around more often,”

“And if his hobby is killing…” Martin trailed off.

“He’d want her involved in that too,” Malcolm finished, “i think they’re in a relationship, in the footage we saw the two seemed quite content with each other’s company, and quite close to one another,”

“Yes, another valid assumption,” Martin nodded, “is the case all you’ve come to talk to me about?” Malcolm chewed on the inside of his cheek, hesitating to answer, “i’d say that’s a no,” Martin assumed.

“My nightmares are becoming…different,” Malcolm said, “more like dreams, less haunting,”

“Oh?” Martin stood from his chair slowly and walked as close to Malcolm as he could, Malcolm having taken a few steps closer to the line since he entered the cell, “how so?”

“Alternate scenarios of things I’ve done that I’m not proud of,” Malcolm admitted with a sigh.

“Like what happened with your sister?” Martin asked and Malcolm shook his head.

“It hasn’t come up, yet, but I also haven’t been sleeping since I began having these new nightmares,” Malcolm looked down at the floor, “it’s been things I haven’t told you about, things I haven’t told…practically anyone,”

“Like what?” Martin questioned, a gleam of what seemed like hope entering his eyes, “you can tell me,”

“That’s the problem, you’ll love it,” Malcolm scoffed and looked up at his father.

“Well, there’s no harm in talking it out though,” Martin shrugged, “I can help from the father side, less the serial killer side,”

“At this point I may need both side’s advice,” Malcolm said and Martin raised an eyebrow in interest. Malcolm sighed, bracing himself to admit something he didn’t want to admit to anyone, “do you remember when I was locked in the closet at Remington Academy?”

“Of course, it nearly killed you,” Martin’s voice softened, “why?”

“The person who locked me in was Nicky Covington, the kid who’d found out my real name,” Malcolm said, “he suffered from severe asthma, and once I returned to school, I swiped his inhaler and emptied it,” Martin recoiled slightly but a proud smile began to make his way onto his face. Malcolm looked down, not wanting to lock eyes with his father, “I confronted him, not with my words but my fists. I struck his nose and his throat,” Malcolm admitted.

“You targeted airways,” Martin breathed out the words with a smile. Malcolm nodded.

“I watched as he began gasping for air and I was happy with myself,” Malcolm took in a shaky breath. He’d long since stopped clasping his hands together, which made it much easier for his trembling hand to do as it pleased, “I taunted him with his inhaler, and I even gave it to him just to watch him go for what wasn’t in there,” Malcolm closed his eyes tightly before opening them again, “he fell to the ground, he was dying and I watched,”

“What happened, son?” Martin asked and Malcolm locked eyes with his father, his own stare gone cold but full of emotion behind his eyes while Martin seemed only proud.

“I was going to let him die,” Malcolm stated, “I wanted to, but I realised what I was doing when this-“ he held up his trembling hand, “presented itself, and I got help,”

“In your dreams you killed him?” Martin asked, even though he knew the answer.

“Yes,” Malcolm nodded, “i’m not sure what it means,”

“Well,” Martin took in a deep breath, “it could be guilt, untapped desire, a shift in your morality even,” Malcolm flinched, “ _or_ , it could be your overactive imagination, I don’t know,” he sighed, “only you know why you did what you did, what you wanted to do, and what could have happened had you not stopped and gotten help,” Malcolm nodded and gulped noticeably.

“You’re proud,” Malcolm stated, “you’re happy I admitted that to you, that I nearly killed someone of my own volition without your influence and years ago at that,” Martin shrugged dramatically.

“Well, I can't say I’m _not_ proud of you,” Martin chuckled almost nervously.

He opened his mouth to say something more when the telltale beep of the door opening disrupted both their thoughts. Malcolm and Martin turned towards the newcomer, surprised to see Ainsley. She stepped into the room with purpose but once she caught sight of Malcolm, she faltered, clearly not expecting Malcolm to be there.

“Ainsley!” Malcolm exclaimed in surprised, “what are you doing here?”

“Uh…I was just-“ Ainsley fumbled over her words and Malcolm’s expression turned to one of concern.

“Well look at that,” Martin grinned, “It’s another family reunion!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I also forgot to say in the last two chapters that if you notice any mistake as far as statistics, psychological profiling, medical, etc. goes, then please correct me! I want to be as accurate as possible.


	4. Sell your soul, not your whole self

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ainsley visits Martin and a third body is found.
> 
> Malcolm begins connecting the dots, and the implications don't bode well for his continued mental (in)stability.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A shorter chapter this time but it felt right to end it where I did.
> 
> Also, I forgot to mention the title of this fic and most of the chapter titles come from assorted The Neighbourhood songs because they're a great band and lots of their songs could be a soundtrack to Malcolm's life at this point.
> 
> Hope you guys appreciate the four chapters in like four days. At this point I just wanna finish it because I'm so into this fic.

“Ainsley,” Malcolm faced his sister straight on, a concerned expression on his face. Ainsley didn’t meet his eyes, “what are you doing here?” He asked once again, more forcefully this time. Ainsley hesitated before answering.

“I was coming to ask his opinion on some facts for a story before I go to air,” Ainsley said finally, her eyes darting between Malcolm and Martin, “can’t I do that?” Her usual farce of the calm, confident reporter slid back into place and Malcolm frowned.

“Ains, I know when you’re lying,” Malcolm replied and Ainsley’s mask faltered.

“Don’t lie to your brother sweetheart,” Martin said, though his tone of voice was less ‘fatherly’ and more interested.

“Malcolm, can you just…leave for a minute?” Ainsley asked, her eyes pleading, “please?”

“Ains…” Malcolm shook his head and stepped forward towards his sister, “what’s going on?” Ainsley looked away from Malcolm, eyes searching Martin’s cell like she had never seen it before.

“I remember,” Ainsley said in a whisper, her voice shaking as she spoke, “I remember what happened that night,” Ainsley looked back to Malcolm whose expression softened, though still concerned, “I remember what I did and what you did for me,”

“Oh,” was all Malcolm could say at that. He was concerned for her wellbeing, her mental state included. For Ainsley to kill Endicott in a fugue, not remembering anything afterwards and complying with everything Malcolm told her, was concerning. He knew she’d remember eventually, he hoped it would take longer, and he hoped she wouldn’t do exactly what she was doing then - seeing Martin because of it, “Ainsley, why are you here? You could have talked to me,” Malcolm said softly.

“I feel…different, Malcolm,” Ainsley told him honestly, “I don’t want to feel the way I do and I want to just forget again!” She exclaimed. Malcolm gulped and looked down at the ground. He couldn’t fix it, he couldn’t help her like he did before. She killed someone and Malcolm didn’t quite know how that felt. They were The Surgeon’s children, and they had been paying for it their whole lives.

“Well…I did say murder is the ultimate thrill,” Martin spoke up and almost immediately Malcolm and Ainsley turned to him quickly.

“Shut up!” They both said simultaneously. Martin rolled his eyes and went to sit on his bed, clearly not being wanted in the conversation.

“You can’t expect me not to speak when you’re talking about murder right in front of me,” Martin shrugged, but he was ignored but his children.

“The point is,” Malcolm sighed, “you need to talk to me. You can’t go running to dad when this happens!” Ainsley recoiled but fought back with an angry and determined expression.

“Oh, you mean like you do?” She snapped, “what were you here talking about? It didn’t look like I interrupted case talk!”

“Do as I say not as I do,” Malcolm’s tone of voice shifted to exasperated and he pressed his thumb and forefinger into his eyes, “ _how_ do you feel different? We’re not going to get anywhere if we keep yelling at each other,” Malcolm sighed. Ainsley nodded and took a deep breath, calming herself down.

“I don’t feel bad about it, but I don’t feel good about it either?” She said, confused, “I don’t remember as much as I could, but I know I…It was violent,” she looked to the floor, “am I like that? Is that me?”

“No!” Malcolm said forcefully, “no, you’re not like that, Ainsley,” he watched as her face fell, emotion she usually hid behind her day-to-day mask clear behind her eyes, “listen, you were protecting us, protecting our family, you, me, mom and even dad,” Malcolm gestured vaguely to Martin, “I can’t fault you for that, not at all,” he sighed, “but it was in a fugue state, a moment of dissociation from reality, in that moment it wasn’t your conscious mind that killed him,”

“But I still did it!” Ainsley rounded on him with emotion fuelled words, “you don’t understand!”

“I do!” Malcolm exclaimed, “Ains, I do,” he added quieter, “that’s the problem. You said you don’t feel bad about killing Endicott? I can take a guess that you mean you might’ve found a thrill in it, but you feel bad about having that thrill,” at Ainsley’s sudden silence, Malcolm took it as an answer and kept going, “I disposed of him, I’m an accomplice, and I can't say that I didn’t take a thrill in cutting him up either,” Malcolm’s crude wording seemed to get the point across and Ainsley’s mouth fell open.

“Well aren’t you two just a pair,” Martin hummed. Malcolm and Ainsley flinched and turned back to him, only seemingly just realising he was still there - as if he could leave anyway.

“Yeah,” Malcolm’s laugh was humourless and full of hidden feelings he wished would go away, “a royally screwed up pair,”

“I should…I should go,” Ainsley muttered and Malcolm shook his head.

“No, wait I-“ he was cut off by his phone buzzing in his coat pocket. He groaned and fished his phone out, “excuse me, work,” he muttered. Malcolm walked over to the corner of the room, leaving Ainsley standing awkwardly in front of the door, “Bright,” Malcolm answered.

 _“Hey,”_ Dani, _“we’ve got another body, same MO,”_

“Where?” Malcolm asked with furrowed brows.

 _“Well, that’s the thing…”_ Dani trailed off, _“It’s on the front steps of Remington Academy,”_ Malcolm cursed under his breath.

“Okay, i’ll..i’ll head there as soon as I can,”

 _“Yeah. Oh, heads up, your mom’s here…again,”_ Dani added. Malcolm cringed inwardly.

“Of course she is,” Malcolm muttered, “okay, well I’ll see you there I guess,”

 _“Yep,”_ Dani hung up and Malcolm put his phone back in his pocket. He looked up, back at Ainsley and Martin.

“I have to go, there’s been another body,” he said with a sigh. Martin’s face lit up.

“Oh! Keep me in the loop about this one,” Martin said and Malcolm rolled his eyes.

“Sure, I’ll talk if I need your help,” Malcolm looked to Ainsley apologetically. She gave him a small smile and gestured outwards.

“Go, we’ll talk later,” Ainsley said and Malcolm nodded.

“Okay,” he said.

Malcolm knocked twice on the door and waited until it beeped and opened. He stepped out into the hallway where Mr. David met him to escort him out. Malcolm looked back over his shoulder where he saw Ainsley still in the cell, talking to Martin. Martin seemed almost gleeful at whatever she was saying, and Malcolm couldn’t help the pit that formed in his stomach.

“Everything okay? You and your sister were yelling pretty loud,” Mr. David asked. Malcolm flinched.

“Everything’s just peachy,” Malcolm said, his gaze steely ahead of him and his stride strong and purposeful.

* * *

Malcolm arrived at Remington Academy for the second time in two months. His hand shook at the sight of the large sign signalling the beginning of the boarding school’s property. His driver pulled up in front of the administration building, a radius around the front steps marked by police tape. Surrounding the tape was, once again, reporters, generally curious people and a number of students still in uniform.

“Thanks,” Malcolm said to the driver as he stepped out of the car.

Malcolm brushed through the crowd of people where he was met by Dani at the police line. He gave her a smile that was backed by emotion he wasn’t sure was leftovers from his fight with Ainsley or if he was just happy to see her. Dani walked slightly ahead of him as they approached the crime scene where Gil was watching Edrisa and her team do the rounds, the lieutenant holding a cup of coffee that he barely sipped.

This display was different. The victim was still suspended in the air by ropes securely tied to the support beams outside the admin building, but she had an obvious, and gaping, wound on her neck. Clearly a knife of substantial size had been taken to her neck, but the only blood at the scene was what had been dripping off her wounds until the blood thickened and stopped pooling out of the wound. Malcolm was drawn to her face, her eyes had glazed over but he could clearly see the familiar hazel green. He furrowed his brows as he searched her face, her features familiar to him in a way he couldn’t quite place. He was focussed enough on the display that he didn’t notice Gil stepping down to meet them at the base of the stairs.

“The victim’s name is-“ Gil began but Malcolm cut him off. It hit him suddenly, why he found the victim familiar. The fact that she had been displayed at Remington Academy was no coincidence, and it began to put the pieces of the case into place for Malcolm.

“Evelyn Pierce,” Malcolm said, his expression suddenly concerned and even slightly afraid.

“Okay, how did you know that?” Dani asked, glancing between Malcolm and Gil.

“She went here, we were in the same class,” Malcolm explained briefly, “she was dating-“ he cut himself off with a shake of his head.

_Nicky Covington’s bloody face stared back at him, writing on the floor as he was dying._

“I think I know what’s happening,” Malcolm said, his voice serious and low.

“What? How?” Gil frowned and Dani echoed his question.

“I overlooked it, because how could it all be connected?” Malcolm shook his head, seemingly talking more to himself than either Dani or Gil.

_Malcolm’s mind flashed back to the conversation he’d had with his father._

_“What could cause a physiological tremor?” he’d asked._

_“Well, lot’s of things,” Martin had replied. Malcolm thought through everything his father had told him, until he got to what he was searching for. Martin’s face was grinning, staring at him with the guise of a serial killer, “hypoxia,”_

_Nicky Covington was struggling to breath for several minutes, Malcolm watching on. He was rushed to hospital once Malcolm had gotten help, but he was without proper oxygen for long enough that it was likely he developed hypoxia. Hypoxia could form long-term damage, one of the possible outcomes was a tremor, a physiological one._

“Oh God…” Malcolm stopped in his tracks, staring up at the body of Evelyn Pierce, “I think this is my fault,”

“What do you mean?” Dani asked.

_What turns someone into a killer?  
Sometimes you just have to be hurt enough._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> At this point I'm a huge fan of characters with psychological trauma and dubious morality. What's the best way to remedy that? Well how about making Malcolm responsible for a brain injury which possibly helped make someone into a killer.
> 
> This is gonna be fun :P


	5. Sometimes the silence guides our minds

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> JT returns to work to find a full load, Dani and Malcolm go investigating at the courthouse.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Title from "Sweater Weather" by The Neighbourhood.

Malcolm hadn’t stuck around the crime scene long enough to talk to Edrisa, examine too much of the body or encounter his mother. He had to get home and find out what he missed. The world had begun spinning around him, his sense of time was leaving him and he was going through a mental spiral. Malcolm caused this, maybe not directly, but if he was right, if his assumptions were correct, then he played a contributing factor.

So there he was, at four in the morning not having slept, slaving over the files from Elizabeth and Alonzo’s murders, trying to find a connection between them and Nicky Covington. Malcolm hadn’t seen Nicky after he’d very nearly killed him. He had been expelled pretty soon after regardless of nobody knowing it was him who did it, and at the time Nicky was still recovering in hospital.

 _“Besides,”_ Martin’s voice rung out in Malcolm’s head, _“you did listen to plenty of my lessons,”_

“Shut up!” Malcolm yelled, alone in his apartment with Sunshine’s chirping as the only other noise in the room. In a fit of either guilt or rage, Malcolm pushed all the papers he had on his desk onto the floor before he gasped for air, suddenly feeling overwhelmed in his own skin.

Feeling a panic attack coming on, he nearly hurt himself by almost jumping off his desk chair, shedding his coat and his tie that he hadn’t bothered to change out of since coming home the previous afternoon. Malcolm stumbled his way into his bathroom where he turned the shower on cold and just sat at the bottom, in his expensive button down, slacks and overpriced shoes that his mother would chastise him about for getting drenched. He leant his head back against the shower wall and closed his eyes, letting the water run over his head, calming him down.

 _“look at you…sitting here panicking over something you did years ago, it’s kind of pathetic really,”_ Martin’s voice sliced through the silence and Malcolm opened his eyes to find a hallucination of his father sitting on the bench on the other side of the bathroom.

“You’re not real,” Malcolm said to his first hallucination in months - funnily enough his declining mental state also declined the frequency of his hallucinations.

 _“Of course I’m not,”_ Martin scoffed, _“but what happened is, you can’t run from it,”_

“I’m not even trying to, no matter how hard I want to,” Malcolm replied with a sigh, “I caused this,”

 _“Yes, you did,”_ Martin hummed, _“now you get a second chance,”_

“At what?” Malcolm questioned, his eyes narrowing at his hallucination.

 _“You can finish what you started - what you wanted to do all those years ago,”_ Martin said, leaning back against the wall behind him with a grin on his face, _“all you have to do is find Nicky,”_

Malcolm shook his head and shut his eyes tightly, only to open them and see his hallucination had gone. He went to turn off the shower when he noticed his hand was trembling violently, one of the worst he’d had in a little while. Malcolm got to his feet and used his good hand to turn off the shower. He shed his shoes and socks, groaning at the wet fabric on his feet, and shed the rest of his clothes, taking a towel and wrapping it around his waist.

Malcolm went back out to grab some new pants when he noticed one of the papers he’d pushed off his desk open to a page which interested him - something he’d overlooked. Malcolm picked up the paper, his eyes widening. It was a connection.

Not long after the class Malcolm was in at Remington Academy graduated, Alonzo Peña was the prosecuting attorney on the case of Gerard Covington, Nicky’s father. Gerard Covington was sentenced to twenty years in prison for fraud and money laundering. Gerard survived five years, until he was killed in a prison riot. That left Nicky with his mother, Aubrey Covington, the model who always came off a being less than motherly.

“That’s it,” Malcolm muttered to himself, “now where’s the connection to Elizabeth?” Malcolm went to pick up the papers relating to Elizabeth’s murder when he realised something - the female killer. Did Nicky have a caretaker? Malcolm needed to get access to patient files and records associated with Nicky’s stay at the hospital and what was possibly ongoing care - but he’d have to wait until Dani or Gil were actually awake to check that - though he couldn’t rule out that Dani wasn’t awake already.

* * *

“JT!” Malcolm didn’t expect to see him so soon, but was happy to have him back. Their team felt incomplete without him.

“Hey,” JT greeted Malcolm with a nod, “Gil and Dani have been getting me up to speed on the case,” Gil and Dani were standing in front of the crime board in the situation room, clearly having been running JT through the evidence they had so far.

“That’s great, because I have something,” Malcolm said, stepping into the room and closing the door behind him.

“Would this be the thing you wouldn’t tell us yesterday at the crime scene?” Dani asked with a raised eyebrow and Malcolm nodded.

“To an extent, yes,” Malcolm said, “have you finished catching him up?” He gestured to JT.

“Yep,” Gil sighed, “lets hear it, Bright,”

“Okay, well,” Malcolm took a deep breath, “Everything is possibly connected to Nicholas, or Nicky, Covington,”

“Isn’t that the kid who bullied you all the time at Remington?” Gil asked and Malcolm nodded.

“Unfortunately,” Malcolm replied.

“How is it connected to this guy?” JT asked and Malcolm nodded, beginning to launch into an explanation.

“Firstly, we have Alonzo Peña, our second victim. Alonzo was a prosecution attorney, so my initial thought was that his killer was a disgruntled defendant,” Malcolm began, “turns out, shortly after senior graduation, Alonzo put away Nicky’s father, Gerard Covington, for fraud and money laundering. Twenty year sentence,”

“That could be motive,” Dani said and Gil agreed.

“That’s not all - Gerard died only five years into his sentence, prison riot,” Malcolm said.

“Okay, that could do it,” JT sighed, “what else?”

“Well then we have Evelyn Pierce, our third victim. She was what led me to Nicky in the first place - they dated in senior year, though I can’t figure out why he’d want her dead,” Malcolm finished with a shrug.

“What about Elizabeth and the female killer?” Dani pointed out.

“Well, that’s where it gets tricky. In order to actually prove my suspicion is correct and connect him to Elizabeth and our female killer, I need to access hospital records,” Malcolm said with a sigh, “Before I was expelled, Nicky had a severe asthma attack which left him hospitalised, he could have gotten hypoxia from it - explaining the physiological tremor. I would also need to know if Nicky is getting ongoing care, whether he has a live-in caretaker, regularly attending carer or otherwise if he has any other condition stemming from the hypoxia, like aphasia. His caretaker, if he has one, might just be out female killer,”

“I’ll get started on a warrant,” Gil said, “that’ll take a few days though. In the meantime, I want you to work on finding where the first victim was stored while she was frozen, if CCTV caught anything at the courthouse when our second victim was being displayed and if anyone at Remington saw anything,”

“I’d find it hard to believe that the killers managed to display Alonzo at the courthouse without anyone seeing them - especially in New York,” Dani said, “I’ll go talk to people in the nearby appartments,” She went to walk towards the door to exit before she turned back, “Bright, you’re with me. I might need your help spotting someone who may be hiding some info,”

“Got it,” Malcolm said and went to follow her.

“Guess I’ll follow up on the delivery company to see if I can find where they stored the body,” JT said with a shrug.

* * *

Malcolm fiddled with his thumbs in the passenger seat of Dani’s car. The drive was boring and mostly silent, them having been caught in the notorious New York traffic. This is why Malcolm never drove anywhere - partially because he didn’t own a car, not that he couldn’t drive because he could - New York’s traffic was abhorrent. He wanted to talk to Dani, though. About the case, about life in general - she seemed to be in a rough spot, but Malcolm wasn’t good with words and he wasn’t good at talking to people in a way that made them feel comfortable around him.

“You’re too quiet,” Dani pointed out. Turns out Malcolm didn’t have to make the first move.

“I don’t like silence but it didn’t seem like you wanted to talk,” Malcolm shrugged and Dani sighed.

“What is it?” She asked, her tone of voice implied that she was exhausted but not annoyed - Malcolm could work with that.

“Are you okay?” He asked and she tensed, her hands knuckles paling with the force of her grip on the steering wheel, “I know you don’t like to talk much about yourself, but you’ve seemed a little…I don’t know, off, lately,” Malcolm added, “I mean, you showed up at my door in the early hours of the morning with doughnuts and I’m not supposed to be concerned?”

“I’m having a rough time,” she admitted, but didn’t make a move to add anything else.

“It’s okay,” Malcolm said softly, his eyes trained on her. Her body language was tense, she didn’t like talking about her feelings or how she was doing.

“What is?” She asked in slight confusion.

“If you don’t want to talk about it, I won’t pry, but if you need to come by my place at three am again, you’re welcome to and I’m always awake or close enough,” Malcolm said, turning back to face out the windshield, “I enjoyed your company,” Dani said nothing but a small smile tugged at the corner of her lips.

* * *

“Thanks for your help, we’ll be in touch if we need anything,” Dani said, closing her notepad and turning away from the door that closed behind her, “nothing?” She asked Malcolm who shook his head.

“She doesn’t know anything. In fact she was bored and wanted to get back inside to watch whatever she’d paused to answer the door,” Malcolm shrugged, “probably Jeopardy re-runs,”

“That’s oddly specific,” Dani furrowed her eyebrows.

“Just a guess,” Malcolm said with a small sigh, “we’ve been all over the block, doesn’t look like anyone saw anything,” he added and Dani nodded.

“At this rate, we’d be searching every apartment in the next three buildings,” the two stopped at the end of the hall in front of an elevator that would take them down to the lobby of the apartment building. Dani pressed the ‘down’ button.

“How about we go back to the courthouse,” Malcolm said, “we still need to get that CCTV footage,”

“That we do, and while we’re at it, we can ask about Alonzo’s cases, especially Gerard Covington’s trial,” Dani added just as the elevator dinged and the doors opened, the two stepping through and pressing the button for the ground floor.

“I don’t think I’m wrong,” Malcolm mused, “I hope I am though,”

“What is it about this guy?” Dani asked. The elevator stopped, dinged once more and opened the doors at the ground floor. They stepped out into the foyer and then into the open air when they began making their way across the street to the courthouse, “this Nicky Covington guy has you all riled up,”

“He and I have a history,” Malcolm said with a frown.

“Gil said he bullied you, but that’s not it, is it?” Dani said, stopping a few paces in front of him and turning around, putting her hand gently on his chest to stop him in his tracks, “no secrets, Bright. What happened with Covington?”

Malcolm stopped, stared at Dani, his hand beginning to tremble. Malcolm went to grasp it with his other hand but Dani stopped him, taking her hand off his chest to take his hand in hers, massaging it gently. Malcolm looked down at the display, a flutter of _something_ in his chest that he couldn’t explain. Dani rarely showed any sort of affection, let alone a comforting gesture like that. It confused Malcolm, and in his thoughts about _why_ he was feeling every-which-way about such a small gesture, his hand stopped trembling.

“I don’t like talking about it,” Malcolm said, “it was rough,” Dani released his hand and put both of hers into the pockets of her leather jacket.

“I need to know what happened - could he be after you?” She asked and Malcolm nodded, solemnly.

“He’s killing people who hurt him, or hurt his family. Alonzo put his father away in prison, Evelyn was his high school girlfriend and I’m guessing they parted on bad terms -“ he was about to add onto his thoughts but Dani cut him off.

“And you?” She asked, “what did you do to him to possibly make him want to kill you?” Malcolm shifted his weight from one foot to another nervously, his heart rate suddenly going up. If he told her, he’d essentially be confessing to a crime. But if he didn’t, he’d lose Dani’s confidence and her trust - which was a big thing for her.

“I nearly killed him,” Malcolm said and Dani recoiled in a momentary show of shock and disbelief.

“What?” She hissed at him, “oh my God, then you’re so on his list,” Malcolm nodded, “what did you do?”

“I caused his severe asthma attack that I mentioned - the one that would have given him hypoxic brain injuries if he is our killer,” Malcolm sighed, “I…I was reacting to what he did to me,” Dani’s expression shifted and her eyes were soft, waiting for him to explain further. While he’d mentioned bad things happened while at Remington Academy when they were there investigating Brumback’s murder, he hadn’t specifically mentioned everything, “Nicky locked me in that maintenance closet at the end of that hallway for three days,”

“Oh,” Dani said in an immediate reaction, “that-“

“Nearly killed me too,” Malcolm nodded, “but I wanted to hurt him for what he did to me,” Dani frowned at the admission.

“We’ll find him,” she said. At the guilt in Malcolm’s expression, she took both of his hands in hers in a comforting hold and looked him straight in the eyes, “you didn’t cause this,”

“I’m not sure I entirely believe that,” Malcolm sighed, “but thanks,”

* * *

The courthouse was as bland and bleak as every other courthouse that Malcolm had been in during his life time - and he’d been in a few. The first was when he was just a child, present for his father’s trial to see how long he’d spend in prison, which later turned out to be Claremont Psychiatric because he was mentally unfit. His mother hadn’t wanted to attend, but Malcolm begged. Ainsley hadn’t been present, but Malcolm was as interested in the trial just as much as he was interested in his father’s punishment.

He’d been to court plenty of other times. As a profiler, he often had to present his findings and how they corresponded to evidence in the trial of someone he’d helped put away. Malcolm didn’t enjoy court - in fact, he’d rather never to step foot in a courthouse again but his job made that incredibly difficult. The trial of his father held bad memories. He wished he hadn’t begged to attend. He wished that he had let his mother not show up to show his father that he wasn’t wanted in their family anymore - but as much as he wanted that to be true, it wasn’t. He was still a child when it happened, he still wanted his dad.

“You okay?” Dani asked as they made their way down a hall towards the chambers of the judge’s, escorted by a reception worker.

“Yeah, I just…don’t like court,” he muttered.

Malcolm couldn’t get the image out of his head of Martin’s smug face, the uneasy smile directed at Malcolm as he never once let up eye contact with his son.

“Me either,” Dani remarked, “but at least we’re not here on trail, huh?” She cracked a smile and a laugh, making Malcolm feel more at ease.

Malcolm couldn’t explain it, at least not consciously, but Dani made him feel happy. She was a constant in the world of ever changing details, people and nightmares. Her touch was calming and made something flutter in his stomach, but it wasn’t a bad feeling. Her smile made him smile, and the way she could keep up with him intellectually as well as inputting sarcastic remarks every now and then, was something Malcolm appreciated.

“Yeah,” Malcolm gulped, “at least we’re not on trial,” Dani gave him an odd look but they were taken to the chambers of the judge in charge of the Gerard Covington trial,

“Uh, hi, I’m Detective Powell and this is Malcolm Bright,” Dani introduced once they entered, “we’re here to talk about the Gerard Covington trial,”

“Ah yes, take a seat,” Judge Thomas McMahon gestured towards the chairs in front of his desk. Dani and Malcolm did so, and McMahon turned to a filing cabinet behind his desk to retrieve a file, “why the interest in Covington? The rich bastard got put away,” He pulled out the file he was looking for and placed it on his desk.

“Well actually,” Malcolm began, “the interest is in his son, Nicholas,” McMahon stopped and looked between Dani and Malcolm.

“That kid…” McMahon shook his head, “he has issues,”

“How do you mean?” Dani asked.

“Well he had brain damage but that’s not what I mean,” McMahon sighed, “he was a mean kid, but reserved - probably because his speech wasn’t what it used to be. He scowled at everyone and got up yelling during sentencing,”

“Do you remember Aubrey Covington? Her treatment of him?” Malcolm asked.

“From what I remember, she didn’t care much,” McMahon said, “but I don’t know the details of their lives, I was just there for the trial,”

“Of course,” Dani side-eyed Malcolm, “about Covington, Gerard, Alonzo Peña put him away,”

“Yes,” McMahon nodded, “Alonzo was one of the best prosecutors I’ve seen, such a shame he’s gone,”

“What can you tell us about the case, details,” Malcolm said, “what charges he had, specifics, did he have possibility of parole? Did he try to bribe his way out?”

“Shouldn’t you know this?” McMahon asked, opening the file.

“Humour me,” Malcolm stated and McMahon sighed.

“What did Nicholas do?” McMahon asked, skimming through the file.

“We think he killed three people,” Dani told him.

* * *

Their talk with Judge McMahon didn’t last too long. They got information about Gerard Covington, his trial, Alonzo’s team and general notes that McMahon had taken during the proceedings. Their next stop was to look at the CCTV footage. They would have gotten it on the day Alonzo was found, but the court had to release access first. So, Dani and Malcolm were escorted into the security office, where the tape was already in and on the date Alonzo was moved to the front entrance.

“What time is this?” Dani asked the security guard who was showing them the tape.

“Two in the morning,” he said.

“Let’s see this,” Malcolm muttered.

The tape played. It showed a good angle of the front steps and the street. Because of the time, the street was relatively empty of cars or pedestrians, so it seemed likely that nobody had paid much attention to the display being set up if they even noticed. The security guard had sped up the footage until two figures came into frame, but it looked as though they’d come from inside the court itself.

The figures were now identifiable as their killers, one male - a little broader and taller - and the other female - short, petite figure. They were dragging a body by the legs, Alonzo. Their display went as expected. They managed to hoist Alonzo up onto the pillars, using a ladder that the male killer seemed to drag from somewhere. They anchored Alonzo down so their display wouldn’t come down anytime soon. Then they took to cleaning up the blood they’d tracked around. First it was what they’d tracked onto the stone slabs marking the entrance of the courthouse, then it seemed as though they went back inside to clean up.

“They killed him in the building,” Malcolm said in realisation. Dani turned to the woman that had been escorting them around.

“Did you know Alonzo? Did he stay back after closure sometimes?” Dani asked.

“Uh, sometimes he sat in one of the conference rooms in the middle of renovation to work late,” the receptionist said, “I didn’t know him well, though,”

“Can you take us there?” Malcolm asked and she nodded.

She took them to the elevators and they arrived on a floor that looked to be under renovation. There was plastic sheets everywhere, ladders - like the one that the killers used to get the height necessary for their display. It would’ve been a good place for murder. Secluded, full of necessary tools to not make a mess…

Malcolm didn’t let his thoughts drift.

“It’s this one,” the receptionist opened one of the doors and led them inside.

It was a conference room with plastic on the floor - protecting it from the walls that seemed to be getting painted. There was a bookshelf on one side, embedded into the wall, and the base of a television wall mount on the other side. The conference table and chairs itself was also covered in plastic, but it looked as though it was often disturbed judging by the wrinkles on one side of the plastic, right where a chair was sitting.

“When was the las time the renovation crew were here?” Dani asked the receptionist.

“Uh, I don’t know, maybe a week ago? I know the project manager went on holiday so they halted work,” she replied.

“Alright, thanks. We’ll take it from here,” Dani said to the receptionist who promptly left.

“Well this is a good place to kill someone,” Malcolm muttered.

“So what are you thinking? The perps just managed to come up here after hours and kill him? Like they knew he’d be here?” Dani questioned, taking a walk around the room.

“Weird right? Unless they had someone telling them information,” Malcolm said, “or maybe they were doing recon,”

“How?” Dani asked and Malcolm shrugged.

“Right now, though, look for clues he was murdered here,” Malcolm said.

“This place is covered in plastic, they would’ve done a thorough job cleaning up, easy one too,” Dani rolled her eyes.

“They could’ve messed up,” Malcolm said, “they tracked blood around like we saw in the video, maybe they missed a spot,”

_“You missed a spot,” his mother’s words rang out in his head, the offending book right under his nose. His face fell._

“It’s not hard to,” Malcolm muttered, adding to his previous words. Dani gave him an odd look but she began searching the room, Malcolm too.

It was then that he saw it, blood on the underside of the conference table, which wasn’t covered in plastic. Malcolm had no doubt it was Alonzo’s blood. The underside of the table was an easy place to overlook. In a room full of plastic, they only had to replace the plastic to make everything seem okay, but they wouldn’t have thought to check the parts not covered in it. Malcolm guessed that they tracked blood around because it was harder to be inconspicuous while holding a body wrapped in the plastic they were killed in, in public. Otherwise, it would have been a hell of a lot cleaner. But carrying someone who’s limp and unresponsive gets easily overlooked as being drunk.

“What is it?” Dani saw Malcolm hadn’t moved for a few moments.

“Blood,” he replied. Dani crouched down next to Malcolm, her eyes finding the blood immediately. It wasn’t a huge amount of blood, but there was some there, and it had dried onto the wood.

“Guess we have our crime scene,” Dani muttered.


	6. Interlude - JT

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> JT follows up on the delivery company and the freezer where Elizabeth was stored.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay so occasionally I'm going to do 'Interludes' which are short chapters from another character's perspective while they follow up on something without Malcolm present, or do something important without Malcolm present. So basically this time it's JT. In Apple pages this chapter is legit only two pages when most other chapters are like 8 pages long.

The delivery company didn’t present any leads. In fact, the Manhattan office couldn’t even identify the two killers. As far as they were concerned, they weren’t employed by them. JT had asked if they had any uniforms stolen, but they couldn’t provide anything since nobody had reported their uniforms stolen. Apparently, uniforms got damaged and repaired daily, so it was likely that the uniforms the killers were wearing were stolen from the place they used for repairs.

So, JT took to investigating places with cold storage. He wanted to find where Elizabeth was stored. They probably couldn’t find where she was killed considering the distinct lack of blood, but finding the storage site could possibly lead them to the killers. JT’s search parameters consisted of low-traffic areas, places close enough to both the delivery company and Elizabeth’s apartment building, and places that weren’t currently in use.

He had a list of five locations.

The first location provided no insight. The power wasn’t even on so it would’ve made storage impossible to slow Elizabeth’s decomposition. It had been thoroughly abandoned and was in talks to be torn down. So, JT moved on. The second location was better, but it was occupied by local homeless. There were sleeping bags and shopping carts full of items, and even a few scrappy stray dogs and cats around. That ruled out that place, so JT left but not before leaving a few notes of money with a little homeless girl.

At the third location, JT got the vibe that something was wrong. So, with his radio in hand just outside the entrance, JT called in for backup - luckily getting a positive response that time. JT pulled out his weapon and flashlight - the daylight was slowly dimming to night - and he waited until a few other officers arrived.

“What’s the play?” One of the officers asked JT.

“We’re going to search inside - I’m after cold storage. If you find something, call it out. This could be where our killers stored a body,” JT told them.

“Alright,” the officer replied and then relayed the information to his team.

Soon, they were at the entrance in formation, weapons in hand - some with their carbines equipped. Once JT gave the signal to breach, the team moved in, slamming the front entrance open. They flashlights swept over every inch of the room, each room entered with nothing found was marked clear. JT moved slowly through the last few rooms - the office area of the warehouse. He checked blindspots first, and moved through doorways slowly. He came upon a locked door and called to another officer to help him.

“Locked,” JT said and the other officer nodded. He left the room then returned moments later with a handheld battering ram enforcer.

“Ready?” The officer asked and JT nodded, his weapon at the ready.

The officer used the enforcer once, twice, three times before the door gave way, the doorframe coming with it. JT and the officer entered, cleared the room then stood, staring at the sight in front of them. There was a single chair in the middle of the room, broken cuffs on the floor and a pool of dried blood surrounding the chair. On the far wall, there was a door to enter the warehouse’s cold storage. JT gestured to the officer and the two went up to the door, and opened it.

The freezer wasn’t very large, so they didn’t have to search to clear it, but it was full. There were large bags on each shelf, garbage bags, shopping bags, even containers. Each storage item was full of body parts. From severed limbs to full bodies, the frost covered bags were storing a number of different body parts from multiple people.

“Holy…” the officer trailed off as he stared at the body parts. His face was pale and JT side eyed him. The officer shook his head and ran out of the freezer, gagging.

“Yep, that’s the job for you,” JT muttered just before calling in the find.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Also, I'm so hyped for this week's episode - we get a canon BrightWell kiss!! even though it's likely in Malcolm's head, he's still thought about it!


	7. Cuz it's too cold, for you here

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Their case begins to heat up with JT's warehouse find, and Malcolm is at a loss.
> 
> Ainsley, however, if scared of her own mind.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Title from "Sweater Weather"

Dani left Malcolm in the conference room as her phone began buzzing. She held it up briefly to Malcolm who nodded, so she left. Malcolm searched the room again - they’d called in the find and a forensics team would be there any moment. He wanted to see if there was any more clues, though, because as much as finding the murder scene was interesting - it was useless without anything that could help find their killers.

Unfortunately, nothing seemed out of place and no more blood was found - that he could see. He supposed he would leave it up to the forensics team and a black light to find other evidence.

Dani re-entered the room moments later, clicking her phone off and putting it in the pocket of her leather jacket.

“Everything okay?” He asked her.

“That was JT,” she began with a sign, “he found the freezer,”

“Oh?” Malcolm’s eyes lit up in interest, “anything interesting?”

“Yep,” Dani nodded, “the freezer is full of body parts,” Malcolm froze, stunned.

That didn’t quite fit his profile, though he supposed it was fitting. He knew that the male killer - _Nicky_ \- had killed before, he just wasn’t able to find who, or where. So this could be quite telling. Multiple victims and depending on how long they’d been there could help create a timeline for Nicky’s criminal career.

“That’s interesting,” Malcolm muttered. He glanced towards the plastic covered floor-to ceiling window on one side of the conference room, noting how the sky darkened.

“We’re going to meet him there,” Dani said, “he gave me the address,”

“Then let’s go!” Malcolm seemed a little _too_ eager and Dani rolled her eyes.

“Hold up, Bright, we still have to wait for the forensics team to get here,” Dani pointed out and Malcolm stopped, pouting.

* * *

Once they managed to peel themselves away from the courthouse, Dani drove them to the warehouse. It sat nestled in the meatpacking district in Greenwich Village. It was a good place to store bodies, the area was full of warehouses with cold storage. Dani and Malcolm pulled up outside the warehouse and were faced with an already established crime scene, Gil already standing with JT.

“Hey,” JT greeted Dani and Malcolm as they exited Dani’s care and approached the scene, “This was the third warehouse on my list, but the furthest away from the first crime scene,”

It was unusual. Greenwich Village was a decent way away from Central Park which Elizabeth’s apartment building bordered. Most killers would prefer somewhere closer to their intended targets, making transport easier but it just spoke to the unpredictability of the case and Malcolm was intrigued.

“How many bodies?” Dani asked and JT let out a puff of air, exhausted.

“Edrisa’s still counting,” he said, “we won’t know the exact amount until DNA testing is done, there’s a lot of body parts,” Malcolm glanced between JT, Dani and Gil.

“Can I take a look?” Malcolm asked. JT gestured towards the warehouse.

“By all means, get your weird ass murder fix,” JT muttered. Malcolm chuckled and began to walk inside.

The warehouse was being searched by police officers, many taking photos and collecting evidence. Malcolm walked through until he found his way to the freezer. He glanced at the bloody chair but walked past it where Edrisa was standing in the open freezer. She was deep in thought, rifling around in the multitude of garbage bags holding body parts to try and count them.

Malcolm looked around, his eyes searching for some clue or some indication that this was Nicky, for all he knew it was just a coincidence and they stumbled upon another killer’s storage ground. It seemed unlikely though.

He caught sight of a slightly open garbage bag holding the severed head of a victim. Malcolm gulped and his hand began shaking. The victim’s eyes were staring back at Malcolm, glazed over, frozen and sunken. The man’s dark hair was pushed back like he’d just been to a party before hand, and his tanned, slightly mottled skin sent Malcolm into a slight panic.

_Malcolm readied the circular saw in his hands, the noise his raincoat was making more annoying that the tool. Malcolm looked down at the bloody body and braced himself, his fingers flexing over the saw’s handle before he bent down and took the saw to Endicott’s neck._

“Malcolm!” Edrisa greeted with a grin. Malcolm startled and sent a smile her way - one that didn’t reach his eyes, “it’s nice to see you!”

“You too, Edrisa,” Malcolm replied, “how many bodies so far?”

“I’ve counted about eight full corpses,” Edrisa turned to the rack in the freezer that held the intact bodies, “and I’ve begun grouping the body parts by limb type and race,”

“Why?” Malcolm asked with furrowed brows.

“Unfortunately I can’t identify how many bodies we have in the pile of dismembered parts, but I can guess by grouping them, and then trying to put them together in some form,” Edrisa shrugged, “There seems to be more legs than there are arms, and a few less heads than corresponding limbs, so I think there’s a few more bodies that have parts unaccounted for,” Malcolm hummed.

“Why would they remove some parts?” Malcolm mused to himself.

“I had a thought,” Edrisa said, “and it’s probably fuelled by true crime stories, but what if they’ve changed their display tactic?” Malcolm raised an eyebrow.

“How so?”

“Well, instead of tying them up and publicly displaying the bodies - because that means they could be easily seen and it takes time to set those up, maybe they’ve gone for an easier route?” Edrisa explained with a quirk of her head, “like I said, though, just a thought,”

“No, you’re right,” Malcolm nodded to her, “the way they’ve been displaying the bodies so far has been public, but it’s risky. Maybe they’re sending body parts to someone,” Malcolm thought with a frown, “of course, that’s assuming that what happened here is by the same killers,”

“Oh, I think it’s safe to say they are,” Edrisa said and Malcolm furrowed his brows in confusion.

“How do you know?” He asked and Edrisa moved one of the bags of bodies with a gloved hand to show Malcolm a small crate of frozen rope sitting in the back of the freezer. It was unusable, and it looked like each rope piece was knotted into the same knots that were used to tether each victim to their final display.

“They’re practice ropes,” Malcolm realised, “our female killer has been practicing with the knots,” Edrisa nodded enthusiastically.

“I realised that too, and that’s not all,” Edrisa put the bag back into place in front of the crate and moved out of the freezer, Malcolm following on her heels, “there’s fresh blood,” Edrisa pointed to a bloody handprint on the side of the doorframe that JT had helped knock down, that Malcolm hadn’t noticed.

“It looks to be maybe a day old at most,” Malcolm muttered.

“Yeah, whoever made that got injured and walked out,” Edrisa said, “one of our killers might have gone to the hospital,”

“Good work!” Malcolm grinned at her, “I’ll leave you to it,” he said and she nodded with a smile. Malcolm walked back outside to meet Dani, JT and Gil who were all bathed in the red and blue lights of the police vehicles on the street.

“We may have the blood of one of our killers,” Malcolm said, “Edrisa found a handprint from today - someone got injured and walked out,”

“Hospital?” Dani asked, getting to what Malcolm was about to say and he nodded.

“Possibly,” he said, “we should check the ones in the area,”

“I’ll get on that,” JT said, his phone already out. He took a few steps away to make a call.

“Anything else?” Gil asked.

“Well, we have eight bodies, a number of dismembered body parts and a crate full of rope,” Malcolm shrugged.

“Rope?” Dani asked in confusion.

“Looks like practice rope - same knots that were used to secure the bodies to their displays,” Malcolm explained briefly, “Edrisa says there’s a mismatched number of body parts so she thinks they may be sending them to someone,”

“Why change the MO now?” Dani asked and Malcolm sighed.

“Their displays were public, they risked getting caught. Now that they know what they’re doing as a team, they might be trying a more subtle route,” Malcolm said, “but I’m not sure. This seems to me like our male killer,” _Nicky_ , “and it seems to me like this - this is our male killer’s personal storage spot. These are his kills without his partner present,”

“Could you confirm it once we ID the victims?” Dani asked and Malcolm shrugged.

“I don’t know. I don’t even know these victims were killed by our pair, even if it’s only one of them,” Malcolm said.

“You said there were practice ropes in there,” Gil spoke up, “and why are there dismembered parts among full bodies?” Malcolm’s eyes went wide as the pieces came back into place - he’d missed something so obvious.

“Maybe it’s because they were planning on displaying those bodies,” Malcolm said, “the dismembered ones - those are likely our male killer’s lone kills, but the bodies? Maybe those are more of our female killer’s victims,”

“Makes sense,” Dani nodded, “but how would we know?” Malcolm turned to Gil.

“Make any headway on the warrant?” He asked and Gil nodded.

“We’ll get one,” Gil said.

“When?” Dani asked, inching closer to the group out of interest.

“Probably tomorrow, but could be a few days,” Gil sighed, “I can’t do much about it though,”

“That’s okay,” Malcolm nodded, “we know where the killers have been storing the bodies, we’ve disrupted probably eight of their displays, they’ll have to change their plans,”

“It’ll probably take them a few days to regroup,” Dani pointed out.

“In the meantime, get some sleep you two,” Gil sighed, “there’s nothing more you can do here,”

* * *

_“Hey Malcolm,”_ Ainsley called him once he’d gotten home. She sounded a little off. They hadn’t spoken since Claremont, but Malcolm would always be there to help Ainsley when she needed him.

“You okay?” Malcolm asked, putting his keys onto his kitchen island counter.

 _“I’m sorry,”_ she muttered, _“about my outburst,”_

“It’s fine,” Malcolm shrugged, “you’re going through a lot,”

 _“Are you home?”_ Ainsley asked and Malcolm looked around at his apartment, the silence inside almost deafening.

“Yeah,” he replied.

 _“Good, I’m bringing takeout,”_ and with that, Ainsley hung up. Malcolm had brought some of the case work home with him, so while he waited for Ainsley, he stuck himself into the work.

Malcolm’s mind raced as he thought about the case so far. The three bodies, the display, their suspects and the most latest developments; the crime scene for Alonzo and the warehouse. Malcolm worked on a profile internally, trying to connect the two different executions of killing together to the same people. The rope’s made it obvious that it was likely the same killers involved in the latest scene, but the dismemberment seemed odd.

 _Maybe Nicky’s getting more violent,_ Malcolm thought. Though that didn’t seem right either.

It seemed more likely that Nicky had been experimenting, killing in different ways, dismembering those he did not intent to publicly display. Dismemberment made disposal easier - as Malcolm learnt first hand. It didn’t seem like Nicky wanted to dispose of those bodies either, though. He froze them for a reason. He was waiting for something - and now the NYPD have thrown a wrench in his plans.

Malcolm frowned as he searched through the crime scene photos of the warehouse. Their killers, both of them, were all over the place. Different levels of efficiency, proficiency and MO. Different skills, different heights, different builds and everything that made Malcolm’s job harder. If Nicky was the wrong suspect - which Malcolm highly doubted but it was possible - he would have to start all over again, work from the top to find their killers.

 _Let’s hope that’s not the case,_ Malcolm thought in silent yet pleading hope.

Malcolm must’ve been deep in thought for longer than he’d realised, because Ainsley had arrived. She knocked loudly on the door, startling Malcolm out of his thoughts with a flinch. He shook himself out of the momentary confusion and panic, and he stood to go answer the door. The smell of Chinese food threw him off balance for a moment. He hadn’t even realised how hungry he was - which was rare these days.

“Ains,” Malcolm threw open the door with a welcoming smile.

“Took you long enough,” Ainsley barged past him with all the confidence of their mother and set the bag of takeout on the island counter next to his keys, “I’ve been knocking for five minutes,” she turned to him and put her hands on her hips. For being the Whitly sibling who’d killed someone much to Martin’s happiness, she sure took after Jessica a lot.

“Sorry, work,” Malcolm said with a dismissing wave of his hands, “what’d you get?” He gestured to the takeout bag.

“Chow mein, fried rice, noodles…” Ainsley pulled out each dish as she said it, “take your pick,” Malcolm widened his eyes.

“That’s…a lot,” he muttered and Ainsley rolled her eyes.

“You’ll have leftovers,” she stated, taking a takeout box and some chopsticks to go sit on Malcolm’s couch.

“Please don’t spill anything on my couch,” Malcolm said, taking his own box and chopsticks.

“No promises,” Ainsley grinned and Malcolm paled slightly.

“So,” Malcolm began, the two of them digging into their food, “did you want to talk about stuff or just eat in silence?” Malcolm asked. Ainsley stayed silent for a few moments, taking extra bites of her food before answering.

“I wanted to ask if you’re okay,” she said as more of a statement, “you told me you got a…a thrill out of cleaning up for me,” Malcolm nodded, his eyes firmly planted on the food in his box, “what does that make us?” She asked softly.

“I don’t know, Ains,” he sighed, “all we can do is try to be better,”

“But what if I can’t?” She set her takeout box onto Malcolm’s coffee table and stared at him, “what if I can’t because I have this-this _itch_ under my skin!” She exclaimed. Malcolm looked up at her, his hand trembling.

“I won’t let you do it again,” he told her firmly, “it shouldn’t have happened in the first place - I wasn’t strong enough to do what had to be done,”

“No, you were good,” Ainsley sighed, flopping back against the couch, “what if you trying to stop me from doing it again makes _you_ kill someone?” Malcolm thought for a moment, his good hand grasping his trembling one and massaging it lightly.

“Then so be it,” he said finally, “we both have it in us, Ains - hell, everyone does. It’s just whether or not we choose to let it take over,” his eyes found hers, “I have wanted to kill people too many times to count - usually it’s people who have done something to me, or angered me, but I can’t help that instinct. It’s a part of me, so I learnt how to control it,” Ainsley nodded as he spoke.

“I’m afraid I won’t be able to stop _myself_ ,” Ainsley muttered.

Malcolm could only be concerned at those words.


	8. (S)he knows what I think about

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gil gets the warrant, Dani and Malcolm go meet with Nicky's caregiver and Malcolm has an important question for Dani.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the long wait. I've been super busy starting Uni back again for the year. Hope you guys enjoy!
> 
> *Title from Sweater Weather*

“What is it?” Malcolm burst into Gil’s office less than an hour after he had been called. It had been two days since any progress was made in the Nicky Covington case, and Malcolm was itching to continue and finally put this part of his past behind him.

“Slow down, kid, you’re going to give yourself a heart attack,” Gil sighed, “and shut the door,” Malcolm nodded, took a deep breath and shut the door behind him.

“So? Any progress?” Malcolm sat down on the chair in front of Gil’s desk.

“We got the warrant,” Gil stated, “you were right,” Malcolm recoiled slightly.

“On which part?” He said with a burst of nervous laughter.

“He’s got hypoxia induced aphasia,” Gil pulled a file out of one of the drawers of his desk and handed it to Malcolm. Malcolm immediately began flipping through the file, “he has a caretaker-“

“Kelly Portman,” Malcolm read out from the file, “I want to speak with her,”

“We can arrange that,” Gil said, “but first you should see something,” he gestured to the file, “turn over,” Malcolm did so and what he saw made him nearly jump out of his seat.

“Kelly and Elizabeth went to college together,”

“There’s your link,” Gil said with a shrug, “we’ve got them,”

“What we have is stuff linking these two to the crimes. No hard evidence yet, we need more,” Malcolm stated with a frown, “ _I_ need more,”

“We’ll get it, Bright. We’re on their trail,” Gil told him carefully.

Malcolm sighed, chewing the inside of his cheek in annoyance. He opened his mouth to say something else when there was a knock on the door. Gil made a motion of ‘come in’ and the door opened, Dani poking her head through.

“Hey boss,” Dani greeted, “you mentioned we got the warrant?”

“Yeah,” Gil nodded, “take Malcolm, check out Kelly Portman’s place, see if she’s around and if she is, bring her in,” Malcolm held up the file which held all the details and Dani stepped into the office, swiftly taking the file off him.

“What’s JT doing?” She asked.

“He’s checking on Nicky. I don’t want Malcolm anywhere near him,” Gil said firmly. Malcolm went to protest but the look on Gil’s face was enough to quiet him down.

“She’s Nicky’s caretaker?” Dani asked and Gil nodded.

“Been caring for him part-time for three years. Before that he had another caretaker who was found dead,” Gil explained. Malcolm perked up, having not yet gotten to that part of the file.

“When was this?” Malcolm asked quickly.

“About a year before Kelly got the job, why?” Gil asked and Malcolm stood.

“How did she die?”

“She had her throat slit,” Dani read out from the file, “here, “Mrs Dana Morris, sixty-four, was found in her home, throat slit, wrists bound and some small defensive wounds. No signs of forced entry,” says here the killer wasn’t found,” Malcolm seemed to zone out, not quite looking at either Dani or Gil.

“It fits…” he muttered, “ _find the first_ ,” he echoed Dani’s earlier statements to him.

“What?” Gil furrowed his eyebrows in confusion.

“He thinks Dana might have been Nicky’s first kill,” Dani explained, “it seems about right,”

“We need to talk to Kelly,” Malcolm snapped himself out of it and looked to Dani who nodded.

* * *

Thirty minutes later, Malcolm and Dani were walking down the street around a block down from Kelly’s apartment. They walked side by side, sticking close so as not to lose each other in the morning Manhattan crowds, and tried to locate their target’s home as they walked.

“What does your gut tell you?” Malcolm asked, “about Kelly,”

“Why?” Dani furrowed her eyebrows in confusion.

“You trust your gut, I trust you,” Malcolm shrugged, absent-mindedly.

“Well,” Dani started, “my gut says that she’s involved, our female killer. _But_ I think she’s not as involved in it as we think. I’d say it’s more Nicky’s operation,”

“That fits my profile,” Malcolm turned his head while they walked to grin at her.

They found the building they were looking for and they walked into the lobby. Unlike an older apartment block where visitors needed to be buzzed in, Kelly lived in a newer one. An apartment building that seemed to house people with more money than a part-time caretaker should have.

“This is…expensive,” Dani commented as they entered.

“I have to wonder how Kelly could afford this place,” Malcolm hummed and Dani echoed his sentiment.

“Welcome to Lindell Apartments, how can I help you?” The receptionist greeted with a smile. Dani walked confidently up to the desk and showed her badge.

“Detective Powell, NYPD, we’re here for a Kelly Portman?” Dani asked.

“One moment,” the receptionist turned to her computer and was silent as she typed, “fourth floor, apartment B,”

“Thanks,” Dani turned away from the desk and gestured for Malcolm to follow her.

They rode silently in the elevator until they arrived at the fourth floor. The floor itself was no less lavish than the lobby, with wide hallways and quite a distance between each apartment, it was a far cry from the cramped apartments one would expect out of someone of Kelly’s status, or lack thereof. A single glass chandelier hung from the too-tall roof in front of the elevator, greeting anyone who dared to think they could step inside the building without feeling inferior.

“This is a bit much, even to me,” Malcolm mused with a chuckled, “my mother would love it, however,”

“Of course she would,” Dani replied, “her house looks like a showroom,” Malcolm shrugged in agreement and they walked through the hallway, coming upon apartment B, Kelly Portman’s home, “here we are,”

“Let’s see if she’s home,” Malcolm knocked loudly on the door and stepped back, waiting with Dani to see if anyone answered. Surely enough, the front door opened moments later and Kelly peered out from behind it.

“Can I help you?” She asked.

“Kelly Portman,” Dani began, “i’m Detective Powell, NYPD and this is Malcolm Bright,” she introduced. Malcolm noticed a flicker of recognition at his name. That didn’t bode well, it meant that Nicky had likely spoken about Malcolm before, “we’d like to talk to you about Nicky Covington,” Kelly gulped nervously but nodded, pulling the door back so they could come inside.

“Of course, come in,” she said.

“Thank you,” Dani stepped past Kelly, Malcolm following on her heels.

Kelly didn’t seem like the type to live in a building like Lindell. In fact, she didn’t seem like the type to commit murder either. Malcolm supposed that was what made her so dangerous. With her mild-mannered, quiet exterior and generally nervous disposition, he could see how Nicky would have easily manipulated her. She dressed like a librarian, but lived in an expensive apartment. The decor didn’t match her at all, with sleek counters and white walls, grey couches and everything being very streamlined, one would expect her to live out in upstate New York with a small cottage filled with old wood, bookshelves, oddly pattered duvets and quite a few cats.

“Why do you want to talk about Nicky?” She asked, taking a seat at her dining table and inviting Dani and Malcolm to join her.

“We believe he’s involved in a few recent murders,” Malcolm stated, carefully watching her reaction.

Despite her clear nervousness, Kelly had been schooled on how to react to a situation like this. He expression portrayed fake shock and disbelief, while her eyes betrayed her. The eyes held genuine emotion, something expected. He’d gathered that Kelly was a more emotional person, someone who felt remorse and had taken care of her victims as she killed them. She didn’t like to get her hands dirty.

“That’s…wow,” Kelly cleared her throat and shook her head, giving her time where her gaze was away from theirs to regain her hold on the fake emotions, “how do you know?”

“I’m not at liberty to say right now,” Dani stated, “how often do you work, giving Nicky care?”

“Uh, I’m with him every other day. I don’t know when he’d get the time to murder people,” Kelly said, glancing between Dani and Malcolm.

“Specifically, what days?” Malcolm asked.

“Right, um, Monday, Wednesday and Friday. I get the weekends off. He’s not totally dependant on me,” Kelly answered and Malcolm nodded.

“Did you ever meet Dana Morris, his caretaker before you?” Dani asked and Kelly shook her head.

“No, why would I? I got the job a year after she left,” Kelly said.

“She was murdered,” Malcolm said suddenly. The sudden revelation halted Kelly in her tracks, her expression faltering for only a moment, but a moment was all he needed, “what was your relationship to Elizabeth Riley?”

“Liz? What-I thought this was about Nicky!” Kelly stood suddenly.

“It is,” Dani said, “sit down, Kelly,”

“Not until you tell me what is going on!” She exclaimed.

“Tell us about you and Elizabeth,” Malcolm said, his words calm.

“We were friends in college, I haven’t seen her in over five years,” Kelly said firmly, “why? Why do you want to ask about _me_ now?”

“We all know that’s not true,” Malcolm sighed, “you weren’t _just_ friends. You were more, at least for a time,” Kelly flinched, “you were friends, but she was popular and infinitely wealthy. You seem to have quite a bit of money, but you didn’t back then. You were the nerd, someone she didn’t want people seeing with her in public, but in private you two were inseparable,”

“She just wanted people to like her,” Kelly sounded defeated.

“So did you,” Malcolm stood from his seat to equal Kelly, “you fell in love with her, but she broke your heart,” Dani glanced between Kelly and Malcolm with wide eyes.

“I knew it wasn’t going to last, but she cut me off,” Kelly admitted, “one day she’s with me, telling me she loved me, the next she’s with some guy announcing she’s engaged - like that even lasted anyway. She never spoke to me again, not in public, or alone,”

“So, when presented with the opportunity, when Nicky brought you into his life outside of what you knew, you killed Elizabeth. You wanted to get back at her, but you didn’t want to hurt her. Not really,” Malcolm explained. At Kelly’s silence, Malcolm glanced to Dani.

“Kelly Portman,” Dani stood, pulling out her handcuffs, “you have the right to remain silent,” she pulled Kelly’s hands behind her back and began cuffing her wrists, “anything you say can and will be used against you in a court of law, you have the right to an attorney, if you cannot afford one, one will be appointed to you,” Dani finished cuffing Kelly and began moving with her towards the door, “do you understand these rights that I have read to you? With these rights in mind, do you wish to speak?” Kelly remained silent, “alright, let’s go,” Dani finished with a sigh.

* * *

Malcolm walked into the observation room of interrogation. Dani was inside, leaning against a table simply watching Kelly. Kelly, on the other hand, was panicking. She was sobbing, head in her hands on the table. She was cuffed to the bar on the table, and was alone. She had been for quite some time.

“Hey,” Malcolm greeted.

“Hey,” Dani replied.

“What’s going on here?” He gestured to Kelly.

“I’m just letting her sweat for a while,” Dani shrugged, “JT got nothing. Nicky wasn’t home,”

“Thought he wouldn’t, he’s smart enough to know that he was blown the moment we recovered the bodies at the warehouse,” Malcolm sighed, “Edrisa managed to verify the identities of all the bodies, though,”

“That’s good,” Dani smiled and Malcolm nodded.

“Yeah, and get this, all of them were on the missing persons list, some of them have been for nearly a year,” Malcolm explained, “the earliest of which, went missing on Tuesdays, Thursdays, Saturdays and Sundays,”

“The days Kelly wasn’t working,” Dani realised.

“Which cements my theory that she wasn’t involved initially,” Malcolm said.

“That’s good, right?” She asked and Malcolm smiled.

“Very good,”

They watched Kelly in silence for several moments, without any of the awkward tension they had together when they first met. It was comfortable, _comforting_ even. Malcolm glanced occasionally at Dani, noticing how she had a new lipstick colour - a bit brighter. She rarely wore makeup to the station, but when she did, it only enhanced her natural attractiveness. Malcolm couldn’t help but notice those things. He was fascinated by Dani in a way he hadn’t been about anyone else. With Eve, he liked her, she was attractive and nice but there was a mystery to be solved with her. With Dani, while she rarely spoke about her personal life, she didn’t share everything, Malcolm found he didn’t want to discover anything she didn’t want to share. He found that he was willing to wait for answers with her. In his friendship with Dani, he found that her mystery was one to be unravelled together, one that she would lead him to when the time was right.

All of those feelings was what led Malcolm to do what he had been thinking about doing for quite some time.

“Would you maybe, I don’t know-“ Malcolm began, cutting himself off with nervous energy and a stutter, “would you like to go out for dinner tonight?”

“What?” Dani flinched, taken aback at the question, “like…like a date?”

“I mean-if you want?” He sounded so unsure of himself. Dani laughed.

“You’re asking me,” she turned to face him directly, challenging, “so what do _you_ want?”

“I would like to go on a date with you, take you to somewhere nice that you’ve never been before and have fun,” Malcolm said suddenly, rising to Dani’s challenge.

“Then we’ll do that,” Dani turned back to watch Kelly, “pick me up at seven,” Malcolm grinned to himself and also turned to watch Kelly.

“That, I will do,” he said.


	9. Interlude - Dani

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dani gets ready for her date.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another interlude.

Dani’s bedroom was lit under the orange light of her bedside lamp. She practically danced around the apartment, listing to music that was playing loudly from her phone. She hummed along, fiddling with earrings and assorted jewellery that she never got to wear. Dani checked herself in the mirror, her makeup immaculate and perfectly practiced despite rarely wearing it, all she was missing was a dress.

She hummed along to the songs as she searched through her closet. The sparkling red dress catching her eye, but she pushed it aside - Malcolm had already seen that one - so she kept searching. Knowing Malcolm, that ‘somewhere nice’ was going to be somewhere really expensive, so she didn’t want to be underdressed. She searched through her dresses - few in number they may be - and came upon one she hadn’t seen in years. A dark emerald green midi length dress, it was something she had worn once to her friend Faye’s wedding years prior, but hadn’t touched it since.

She pulled the dress off the hanger and quickly pulled it on, zipping it up and going to the mirror to see how she looked. After all the time that had passed, it still fit her perfectly. Simply skimming over most of her body, but hugging where she wanted it to. It had a thin, black belt sewn into the dress, and with the addition of a pair of black heels, Dani was ready to move to her hair.

She couldn’t believe how much effort she was putting into this. She rarely dressed up for a guy - despite the fact that Malcolm was taking her somewhere overpriced where she _had to_ \- and yet with Malcolm, she _wanted_ to. That was the differenced between it. With her ex, Khalil, he wanted so much from her that she didn’t want to give him. He was demanding then acted like it was her fault for being upset. With Malcolm it was different.

Though Malcolm was erratic, he was patient with her. He wanted to get to know her but didn’t push. While he could be annoying at times when he didn’t think things through, he always apologised later. And even through all of the things Dani thought she would never be interested in - Malcolm was rich, born with a silver spoon in his mouth, he was white and didn’t understand what she and JT went through - she was interested in him. He took the time to get to know her, to understand her, to make her feel comfortable. She liked that.

 _God Faye will laugh_ , she thought of her friend’s reaction to her impending date.

Dani fiddled with her hair, pulling it up then keeping it down in different styles until she simply gave up and pulled the pieces around her face back. Dani assured herself that she was ready to go, checked the time - six forty-three - and turned around, ready to get her bag off her bed.

Instead, Dani froze, eyes glancing over to the dresser on the other side of the room where her gun lay. In front of her was a man, taller than her, wearing a black hoodie and dark jeans. He had latex gloves on, one hand holding a syringe. The lower half of his face was visible, letting Dani know that the man in front of her was Nicky Covington, she’d stared at his picture plenty of times in the past weeks.

“Get out,” Dani said firmly.

“Oh but…but Detective Powell,” Nicky advanced towards her. Dani stepped backwards, hitting her mirror, “I hope you didn’t have plans,” Nicky grinned, pushing back his hood to expose his face. Dani tried to move towards her dresser, circling around Nicky like a standoff in a cheesy action movie.

“I did actually,” Dani stated, “but bringing you in will just make my night,” Dani felt she was close enough to the dresser that she lunged for her gun, only to have Nicky on her in an instant. Dani struggled under his grip but he was strong. He pulled her away from the dresser, even through his trembling hands, and he covered her moth with his hand. Dani tried to hit him away, but within seconds the syringe was in the side of her neck and the world began to get blurry.

“Sorry to disrupt your evening,” Nicky said, “but…but i-uh I’ve got plans of my own,” Nicky stuttered.

Nicky stood over Dani as she slipped into darkness, the last thing she saw was his grinning face staring down at her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Things are getting interesting!
> 
> Unfortunately this is where I'll be leaving you guys for a little while until I find the time to update again, but hope you guys are happy with the double update (regardless of the cliffhanger)


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